LJ   301   04C, 


BIOLOGY 

LIBRARY 

6 


ANIMAL   INGENUITY   OF   TO-DAY 


Science  of  To-Day 
Series 

NEW    VOLUME 

SUBMARINE   WARFARE   OF 
TO-DAY. 

Telling  how  the  Submarine  Menace 
was  met  &  vanquished.  By  C.  W. 
DOMVILLE-FIFE,  Staff  of  H.M.  School 
of  Submarine  Mining.  With  53  Illus- 
trations. 

"  A  very  striking  book,  revelation  follows  revelation, 
and  magnificent  stories  of  fighting  and  heroism  at  sea 
come  practically  on  every  page.  One  of  the  few  war 
books  which  will  survive  the  next  ten  years." 

Liverpool  Courier. 

ALREADY    PUBLISHED 

1.  ELECTRICITY  OF  TO-DAY. 
By  C.  R.  GIBSON,  F.R.S.E. 

2.  ASTRONOMY  OF  TO-DAY. 

ByCECILG.DOLMAGE,M.A.,D.C.L.,LL.D.,F.R.A.S. 

3.  SCIENTIFIC  IDEAS  OF  TO-DAY. 

By  C.  R.  GIBSON. 

4.  BOTANY  OF  TO-DAY. 

By  PROFESSOR  G.  F.  SCOTT  ELLIOT,  M.A.,  m.sc. 

6.  ENGINEERING  OF  TO-DAY. 

By  T.  W.  CORBIN. 

7.  MEDICAL  SCIENCE  OF  TO-DAY. 

By  WILLMOTT  EVANS,  M.D. 

8.  MECHANICAL  INVENTIONS  OF  TO-DAY. 

By  T.  W.  CORBIN. 

9.  PHOTOGRAPHY  OF  TO-DAY. 

By  H.  CHAPMAN  JONES,  F.I.C.,  F.C.S.,  F.R.P.S. 

IQ.  SUBMARINE  ENGINEERING  OF  TO-DAY. 

By  C.  W.  DOMVILLE-FlFE. 

11.  GEOLOGY  OF  TO-DAY. 

By  PROFESSOR  J.  W.  GREGORY,  F.R.S, 

12.  AIRCRAFT  OF  TO-DAY. 

By  CHARLES  C.  TVKNBR,  Major,  R.A.P. 

Sin.  EY,  SERVICE  £•  Co.,  LTD.,  38  Great  Russell  SC 


How  SOME  SPIDERS  ESCAPE  THEIR  ENEMIES  AND  CATCH  THEIR  PREY 

"In  the  upper  illustration  a  large  centipede  is  shown  invading  the  branched  nest  of  a  trap-door  spider. 
The  centipede  has  discovered  the  Sicond  door  of  the  nest,  but  the  spidar  has  taken  refuge  in  the  upper 
branch  of  the  inner  tube  and  is  pulling  back  the  door  in  such  a  way  that  her  retreat  will  be  hidden.  The 
spider  in  the  other  large  nest,  on  the  left,  has  taken  alarm  and  is  clinging  to  the  lid  of  her  tube,  by  the 
lutle  holes  made  in  it,  to  prevent  it  being  opened.  At  the  top  of  the  picture  a  spider  is  seen  pouncing 
upon  an  insect ;  another  keeps  watch  under  the  half-opened  door  of  her  nest.  Close  to  the  centipede's 
i  ail  are  represented  the  tiny  lids  of  two  nests  made  by  "  baby"  spiders. 

The  lower  illustration  represents  a  tarantula  pouncing  upon  a  cricket  from  the  turret  which  surrounds 
the  opening  of  her  nest. 


ANIMAL    INGENUITY 
OF  TO-DAY 

A    DESCRIPTION    OF    THE    SKILL,    CLEVER    DEVICES    6- 

STRATAGEMS     OF     BIRDS,     REPTILES,     INSECTS 

AND  OTHER  FORMS  OF  ANIMAL  LIFE, 

THEIR   MEANS  OF   SUBSISTENCE 

&  PROTECTION 

BY 

C.  A.  EALAND,  M.A. 

*  i  '  . 

AUTHOR  OF  "INSECTS  <&*  MAN" 
"ROMANCE  Of  THE  MICROSCOPE"  &c.  &*c. 


WITH    26    ILLUSTRATIONS 


LONDON 

SEELEY,  SERVICE  &f  CO.  LIMITED 

38  GREAT  RUSSELL  STREET 
1921 


V 


BIOLOGY 


PREFACE 

IN  the  following  pages  I  have  attempted  to  raise  a  corner 
of  the  veil  which  shrouds  the  face  of  Nature.  To  disclose 
her  secrets  entirely  is  beyond  the  power  of  any  human  being, 
so  we  must  be  satisfied  with  a  glimpse  of  a  feature  here 
and  there  which  may  seem  likely  to  awaken  our  interest. 

There  are  those  who  would  deny  to  animals  the  posses- 
sion of  intelligence ;  but  I  trust  the  pen  pictures  in  this 
book  will  prove  that  they  are  ingenious,  and  that  many 
of  them  are  extraordinarily  so. 

Animal  Ingenuity  covers  a  wide  field,  so  wide  that  I 
have  been  compelled  to  enlist  the  aid  of  a  number  of 
standard  works.  Amongst  those  into  which  I  have  delved 
somewhat  deeply  are — Dr  Wheeler's  delightful  book  on 
Ants ;  the  works  of  Mr  Chas.  Dixon,  who  so  charmingly 
describes  Birds  and  their  habits ;  Professor  Dittmar's 
monumental  work  on  the  Reptiles  of  the  world ;  Dr 
Dakin's  Pearls  ;  Mr  Warburton's  Spiders ;  Professor  J.  A. 
Thompson's  Study  of  Animal  Life^  and,  needless  to  add, 
that  mine  of  information,  the  Cambridge  Natural  History. 
To  the  authors  of  these  works  I  make  my  excuse,  that 
their  writings  are  practically  indispensable  to  one  who 
would  pen  a  book  of  the  nature  of  Animal  Ingenuity. 

My  publishers  throughout  have  shown  me  such  kind- 
ness and  consideration  that  I  wish  to  take  the  opportunity 
of  thanking  them  here. 

C.  A.  E. 

LONDON, 

517703 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  I 

PAGE 

SOCIAL  BEES  AND  WASPS  .         •    .  •»••          .         17 

Lazy  Bees — Members  of  the  Bee  Family — How  the  Honey- 
comb is  made — Regal  Duties — Attentive  Nurses — Rivals — 
The  Bees'  Legerdemain — Collecting  Honey — Living  Venti- 
lators— How  Honey  is  preserved — Scavengers  and  Door- 
keepers—A Thief  in  the  Night— A  New  Community— The 
Home  of  the  Bumble-bee — The  Trumpeter — Cats  and  Clover 
— The  Wasp  as  Wood-pulp  Maker— The  Wasp's  Toilet— A 
House  upside  down 

CHAPTER  II 

SOLITARY  BEES  AND  WASPS          .  .    ,         .  .        31 

A  Bed  of  Roses — Living  Compasses — Taking  a  Mean  Ad- 
vantage—Bees as  Carpenters — Waste  not,  Want  not — A  Bee 
Mason — Curious  Nesting  Sites — Burrowing  Bees — A  Careful 
Mother — The  Solitary  Wasp's  Larder — A  Troublesome 
Burden  and  how  the  Wasp  overcomes  a  Difficulty — An  Insect 
Surgeon — Training  for  a  Combfat — How  a  Mother  Wasp 
preserves  its  Grub  from  Danger 

CHAPTER  III 

ANTS          .  .  .          ;  '.,»,          .  *  .         42 

In  praise  of  the  Ant — Stages  of  Ant  Civilisation — A  Large 
Family — The  Queen  Ant  as  an  Engineer — A  Labour-saving 
Device — Regulating  the  Temperature  of  a  Nest — Official 
Nut-crackers — Methodical  Nurses — The  Evening  Promenade 
—A  Well-timed  Flight — The  Sweet  Tooth  of  the  Ant — A 
living  Sweetshop  —  Fungus  -  growing  Ants  —  A  Careful 
Gardener — Harvesters — Ant  Gardens — Protecting  the  Home 
— A  Biting  Stopper — Slave  Makers — Helpless  Amazons 

CHAPTER  IV 

TERMITES  OR  WHITE  ANTS          .         '•••'.••*       '  .  .        55 

Some  Misnomers — Giant  Houses — A  Lonely  Queen — Growth 
extraordinary — An  Egg-laying  Machine — A  Wise  Provision 

9 


Contents 

CHAPTER  IV— continued 

PAGE 

of  Nature — Busy  Workers — Doughty  Warriors— Models  of 
Cleanliness — How  the  Ant-lion  builds  its  Pit — The  Uses  of 
a  Flat  Head— On  Guard— A  Struggle  in  the  Pit— The 
Curious  Eggs  of  the  Lacewing — An  Ingenious  Disguise 

CHAPTER  V 
WOODWORKERS      .  .  .  .  .  .65 

An  Expert  Woodworker — Superstition  and  a  Beetle — The 
Taps  of  the  Death-watch — A  Beetle  Garden — The  Connoisseur 
— An  Awe-inspiring  Wasp — A  little  Resin  Moulder — Robin's 
Pincushion — Currants  and  Spangles — The  Oak-apple — A 
Maleless  Race — Pine-apple  Makers 

CHAPTER  VI 
LARWE  AND  THEIR  WORK  .  .  .  .         79 

A  Watchful  Sentinel — Insect  Submarines — How  Ballast  is 
added — An  Ingenious  Decoy — A  Water-baby — Tapping  the 
Main — Joseph's  Coat — A  Clever  Engineer — Cuckoo  Spit  and 
what  it  contains  -Leaf- miners — Safety  in  Numbers — An 
Insect  Periscope 

CHAPTER  VII 

COCOONS,  NESTS  AND  EGGS          .  .         \  .  .•         92 

A  Living  Shuttle — A  Long  Pull  and  a  Strong  Pull — A 
Modern  Ark — The  Cockroach's  Purse— The  Praying  Mantis 
and  its  Egg  Chamber — -A  Henpecked  Water-bug — Eggs  in 
Showers — The  Careful  Mother — A  Butterfly  befooled — The 
Troubles  of  a  Horse  —The  Mosquito  Porter 

CHAPTER  VIII 
MIMICRY    .  .  .  .  .  ,       100 

A  Dead  Leaf  and  its  Story — The  History  of  a  Green  Leaf 
—Living  Sticks — A  Spider's  Strange  Garb — A  Hornet  Mimic 
— A  Beetle  and  a  Wasp — An  Exploded  Myth — The  Mimic 
and  his  False  Burden— The  Wily  Cuckoo 

CHAPTER  IX 

GROUND  AND  UNDERGROUND  NESTS       .  .  .109 

How  to  use  one's  Feet  as  a  Nest — Bird  Etiquette — An  Apology 
for  a  Nest — Eggs  first,  Nest  afterwards — A  Soup-plate  Nest 
—  Mound  Builders — A  Natural  Incubator — A  Bird  House- 
boat— Tending  the  Incubator — A  Deft  Engineer — Living 
Rainbows — Capture  made  easy — A  Living  Pickaxe — A 
Dutiful  Spouse 

10 


Contents 

CHAPTER  X 

PAOB 

NESTS  IN  TREES   .  .  .  .  .  .123 

A  Use  for  Spiders'  Webs — A  Bird  Felt-maker — Concealment — 
A  Downy  Couch — Nestlings  as  Nest-builders — No  Robbers  ! 
— A  Bird  Colony — The  Weaver-bird's  Two-roomed  House — A 
Wise  Bird — Thrush's  Linoleum — Edible  Nests — A  Fungus 
and  its  Uses — The  Shrike's  Larder — A  Good  Port  in  a  Storm 
—The  Little  Tailor 

CHAPTER  XI 

BIRDS'  EGGS          ,  ,  .  .  .  '         .       136 

The  Three-gallon  Egg — A  Bird  which  lays  its  Weight  in 
Eggs— Round  and  pointed  Eggs — Colour  and  the  Reason 
why— Plumage  and  Song — The  Green  Eggs  of  Spring — A 
Bird  which  never  fears  Discovery — The  Story  of  Two  Eggs — 
The  Eccentric  Eggs  of  the  Guillemot — Eggs  one  cannot  miss 

CHAPTER  XII 

PLUMAGE  AND  ITS  MEANING        ,  ,.         .  .  145 

Nestlings  and  their  Markings — Tropical  Green — The  Appro- 
priate Livery  of  the  Pheasant — A  Change  of  Scene  and  a 
Change  of  Coat — The  Elusive  Bittern — The  Ptarmigan  and 
his  Wardrobe  —  Identification  Discs — Powder-down — The 
Strange  Story  of  the  Heron 

CHAPTER  XIII 

COURTSHIP  .  .  .  «  .  j       153 

Fine  Feathers  make  Fine  Birds— A  Failing  Voice — An 
Admired  Deformity — A  Dazzling  Display — An  Avian  Panto- 
mime—The Ruff  and  his  Amours— A  Blase  Mate— An  Early 
Morning  Parade— The  Peacock's  Tail— Floral  Offerings  and 
the  Building  of  a  Palace 

CHAPTER  XIV 

QUEER  FRIENDSHIPS      .-,.,/         .!jfc   ,     t   .  •   *         .       165 

An  Ant  Farm— The  "Cows"  and  a  Myth— The  Green-fly's 
Battery — Farmsteads  in  miniature — The  Lure  of  Honey-dew — 
Ingratitude  to  a  Butterfly — An  Artful  Dodger— How  a  Fly 
spends  its  Time  with  the  Ants — A  House  Removal  and  how 
it  may  be  avoided — A  Modern  Jonah — Accidents  will  happen 
— The  Rhino  and  his  Friend — A  Little  Jockey 

II 


Contents 

CHAPTER  XV 

PAGE 

MIGRATION  .  .  .  .  .  .178 

The  All -devouring  Locust — Why  a  Move  is  necessary — Har- 
bingers of  Spring — A  Long  Journey — To  the  Far  North — 
Favoured  Spots — High  Flyers — The  Fatal  Lighthouse— A 
Deep-rooted  Habit— The  Wandering  Salmon— The  Eel  and 
its  Story — The  Springbok's  Search  for  Water 

CHAPTER  XVI 

HUNTERS  AND  HUNTED    ....  ,       189 

The  Cat  and  his  Whiskers— The  Panting  Dog— The  Wily  Fox 
—A  Combat  in  the  Air— A  Living  Torpedo — The  Seal's  Warm 
Coat— A  Fifth  Sense— The  Blind  Bat— The  Mole  and  his 
Larder — The  Uses  of  a  Long  Neck — Eyes  and  how  they  are 
used — Shadows  and  how  to  avoid  them.  A  Bat  which  uses 
a  Powder-puff—  A  Moss-green  Coat — The  Skunk  and  his 
Perfume  Bottle 

CHAPTER  XVIX 

ENGINEERS  .  •.  .  .  .  .       201 

An  Animal  Town— The  Beaver's  Dam— A  Comfortable 
House— The  Idler  shunned — Tree-felling — An  Edible  House 
—The  Moose-yard 

CHAPTER  XVIII 

SAPPERS  AND  MINERS       .  .  .  .  206 

The  Mole's  Fortress — A  Stolen  Home — A  Great  Sapper — 
An  Underground  Town — A  Food  Hoarder — The  Anomalous 
Duckbill — Hunting  below  Ground — Cheek  Pouches  and  what 
they  hold. 

CHAPTER  XIX 

NEST-BUILDERS      .  .  .  .  .  .215 

A  Useful  Tail— The  Home  of  the  Harvest  Mouse— A  Well- 
hidden  Door— The  Squirrel's  Dual  Home — The  Dormouse's 
Sleeping  Apartment — Curious  Nesting  Sites  of  the  House 
Mouse — The  Chimpanzee's  Shelter 

CHAPTER  XX 

SEASONAL  CHANGES  .  .  .  .  .221 

The  Influence  of  Surroundings— The  Effect  of  Temperature— 
What  Warmth  and  Food  will  do— The  Prolific  Aphis— A 
Winter  Fast— The  Curious  Story  of  the  Plaice — Giant  Tad- 
poles— Twin  Brothers  whom  no  one  recognised 

12 


Contents 

CHAPTER  XXI 

PAGE 

REPTILES   .  .  .  .  .  .  .227 

The  Clever  Turtle— Strategy  extraordinary— A  Tortoise 
Warren — A  Tail  used  as  a  Gimlet — Love-making  by  the  Giant 
Tortoise — Crocodiles  as  Nest-builders — The  Alligator's  Roar 
and  his  Scent  Bag — A  Deceptive  Tail— Sucker-toes  and 
their  Uses— A  Stream  of  Blood— A  Tail  as  a  Larder— How 
a  Chameleon  feeds — A  Clever  Malingerer — Snake-charming 

CHAPTER  XXII 
FROGS  AND  TOADS  .  .  .  .  .       241 

The  Frog's  Rosary— Toy  Balloons— A  Portable  Nursery— 
An  Obliging  Father — An  Ingenious  Nest — The  Midwife  Toad 
— A  Striking  Attitude — Spade  Feet — A  Mason  Frog— A 
Nest  in  a  Shell— The  Stickleback's  Nest— A  Head  Nest  for 
Eggs— The  Sea-horse 

CHAPTER  XXIII 

CRABS,  LOBSTERS,  ETC.     .  ,  .  *  .       253 

Land  Crabs  and  their  Claws — The  Curious  Antics  of  the 
Fiddler  Crab — A  Tree-climbing  Crab — Visits  to  the  Sea — 
The  Hermit  Crab's  Home — A  Friendly  Anemone — An  In- 
genious Crab  and  his  two  Friends — A  Living  Roof-garden — 
The  Masked  Crab's  Breathing- tube 

CHAPTER  XXIV 
SPIDERS     ....         | ; ..'        .  .      261 

Useless  Silk— A  Silk  Factory— The  Spider's  Web  and  how 
it  is  made — Spring  Traps — Trussing  a  Victim — A  Telephone 
Line— The  Water- spider's  Home— A  Spider's  Boat — Trap- 
doors— Aeronaut's  Gossamer  and  its  Meaning 

CHAPTER  XXV 

SHELL-BEARERS      .  .  .  .  .  .276 

How  a  Mussel  walks— The  Scallop's  Antics — How  the  Oyster 
repairs  its  Home— Boring  Molluscs — The  Piddock  as  a  Coast 
Eroder — Rock-borers — The  Ship-worm  and  his  Depredations 
—  The  Limpet's  Preserve  —  Housing  Molluscs  —  A  Snail 
Aeronaut— Pearls  and  Pearl-fishing 

13 


Contents 

CHAPTER  XXVI 

PAGE 

CORALS,  WORMS,  ETC.       .  .  .  .  .287 

The  Story  of  the  Amoeba — The  Building  of  the  Ocean  Floor 
— Sponges — Corals  and  their  Story — A  Battle  Royal — More 
Lives  than  a  Cat — The  Sea-urchin's  Comb — The  Earthworm 
and  his  Home 

CHAPTER  XXVII 

PARASITES  AND  PREDATORS          .  .  .  ".       296 

A  Useful  Ladybird— A  Predaceous  Beetle— The  Tragedy  of 
the  Museum-beetle — A  Parasite  indeed — The  Story  of  the 
Liver-fluke 

INDEX        .......       307 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

TRAPDOOR-SPIDER  .....    Frontispiece 

PAGE 

SOLITARY  WASPS  .  ....        32 

A  RIDE  ON  BEETLE-BACK,  AND  A  LIVING  SWEETSHOP  .       48 

AN  ANT  HILL  BY  DAY  .           .           .           .           .  .56 

PRAYING  MANTIS            .           .           .           .           .  .       96 

BUCCANEER-FLY  AND  LEAF-RESEMBLING  INSECT      .  .      104 

PROTECTIVE  MIMICRY    .....           .           .  .112 

A  WILLING  PRISONER    .           .          ,           .           .  .      120 

A  BIRD-CATCHING  SPIDER         ,           .           f           .  .      128 

BUTCHER-BIRD'S    LARDER  ..    ;          ,  .  .  .         132 

NEST  OF  THE  WEAVER-BIRD     .       ••'.,.'       .           .  ,      136 

BIRD  PIRATES      .           .           .           .           .           ,  .      144 

PTARMIGAN         '.           .   -       .           .           .           .  ,      152 

BOWER- BIRD        .,          .....  ,      160 

INSECT  FREEBOOTER  AND  INSECT  BEGGAR    .           .  .168 

CROCODILE-BIRDS            .           .           .           .           .  .176 

THREE  versus  ONE          .           .           .           .           .  .192 

BEAVERS  TREE-FELLING  .....      200 

POCKET-GOPHERS  .          .          .          .          .          .208 

15 


List  of  Illustrations 


PAGE 

BUILDING  A  HOME         .           .           .  .           .           .216 

AN  UNEXPECTED  MEAL            .  ...      232 

FROG  "  MASONS  ".           ...  248- 

ROBBER-CRABS     ...  .256 

A  MISCHIEVOUS  BEAST  .  .      288 


16 


ANIMAL  INGENUITY   OF 
TO-DAY 


CHAPTER    I 

SOCIAL   BEES   AND   WASPS 

AT  the  present  time  there  are  known  to  be  rather  more 
than  five  hundred  thousand  different  kinds  of  animals. 
Of  these,  three  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  are  insects. 
Small  wonder,  then,  that  this  great  class  of  the  Animal 
Kingdom  provides  some  of  the  most  remarkable  examples 
of  animal  ingenuity.  A  well-known  writer  has  described 
the  present  time  as  the  Age  of  Man  and  Insects,  just 
as  earlier  times  were  known  as  the  Age  of  Reptiles  or  the 
Age  of  Fishes  or  of  backboneless  animals.  Sad  to  relate, 
this  host  of  industrious  creatures — insects  are  rarely  lazy 
— embraces  but  few  kinds  that  are  of  immediate  benefit 
to  man  :  the  insect  goats  far  outnumber  the  sheep. 

In  comparatively  recent  times  it  has  been  discovered 
that  some  of  the  most  fell  diseases  of  the  human  race  are 
carried  from  man  to  man,  or  from  animals  to  man,  by 
insects.  But  four  of  the  hundreds  of  thousands  of  different 
kinds  of  insects  have  been  domesticated.  A  domesticated 
insect  sounds  rather  an  anomaly,  but  the  activities  of  the 
honey-bee,  the  silkworm,  the  cochineal  insect  and  the 
lesser  known  lac  insect  have  actually  been  subjugated 
to  the  will  of  man. 

For  the  moment  we  are  only  concerned  with  bees,  not 
only  honey-bees,  but  also  with  certain  of  their  wild  rela- 
tives. The  honey-bee  is  of  very  special  interest  because 
of  its  very  highly  developed  social  habits,  which  are  only 
approaclied  by  those  of  the  ants  and  termites.  True, 
B  17 


Social   Bees  and  Wasps 

much  of  the  honey-bee's  so-called  intelligence  has  been 
fostered  by  man  ;  but,  putting  aside  man's  agency,  the 
honey-bee  community,  as  shown  by  the  wild  bees,  is 
worthy  of  close  study. 

Let  us  examine  a  hive  that  we  may  learn  something 
of  its  industrious  inmates.  Industrious  the  majority  of 
them  certainly  are,  but  there  is  one  kind  of  individual  in 
every  hive  who  leads  a  lazy,  often  useless,  life.  His  very 
name  denotes  his  uselessness  :  he  is  called  a  drone.  The 
drones  are  the  males.  They  are  always  more  stoutly 
built  and  more  hairy  than  their  sisters.  Moreover,  they 
are  never  furnished  with  any  of  the  special  structures  for 
carrying  pollen,  making  or  moulding  wax,  etc.,  as  are  the 
workers.  The  drones  perform  one  function  and  one  only 
during  their  lives  :  they  mate  with  the  queen  bee,  when 
necessary.  As  there  is  only  one  queen  in  each  hive  and 
some  hundreds  of  drones,  it  follows  that  the  majority  of 
drones  are  simply  loafers. 

The  workers,  though  really  undeveloped  females,  are 
practically  sexless  and,  on  this  account,  are  often  called 
neuters.  They  are  the  smallest,  neatest  members  of  the 
community,  but  they  are  beautifully  adapted  for  the  work 
they  are  called  upon  to  perform,  such  as  building  the  food 
and  brood  cells  ;  gathering,  storing  and  preparing  the 
honey ;  nursing  the  young ;  cleaning,  ventilating,  warming, 
repairing  and  guarding  the  hive. 

Needless  to  say,  the  most  important  member  of  the 
community  is  the  queen.  She  is  a  fully  developed  female, 
with  a  slender,  well-proportioned  body,  about  half  as  large 
again  as  the  workers.  She  lays  the  eggs  from  which  the 
future  stock  of  the  hive  will  arise ;  this,  in  the  case  of  the 
queen  honey-bee,  is  her  sole  function.  Accordingly  she, 
like  the  drones,  is  unprovided  with  special  structures 
necessary  for  carrying  out  the  general  work  of  the  com- 
munity. She  gathers  no  food,  nor  does  she  construct  any 
part  of  her  nest,  thereby  differing  from  the  queens  of  the 
bumble-bees  and  social  wasps. 

18 


Social   Bees  and  Wasps 

Now,  having  learned  something  of  the  inmates  of  the 
hive,  let  us  pay  a  little  attention  to  some  of  the  events 
which  take  place  in  the  bee  home.  It  is  better  to  start 
at  the  beginning  of  the  story — that  is  to  say,  at  the  period 
of  the  formation  of  a  new  community.  Everyone  has 
heard  of  a  "  swarm  "  of  bees.  Most  people  are  aware  that 
a  "  swarm  "  consists  of  one  queen  and  some  workers,  whose 
numbers  may  vary  from  two  to  twenty  thousand  or  even 
more.  The  reason  for  swarming  may  not  be  so  generally 
known :  it  simply  arises  from  a  desire  on  the  part  of  the 
queen  to  seek  a  new  home.  If  left  to  themselves,  the 
swarming  bees  would  find  some  convenient  hollow  and 
settle  there,  but  they  are  too  precious  to  be  allowed  to 
stray  in  this  manner,  so  the  alert  bee-keeper  transfers 
them  to  a  new  hive. 

Once  in  possession  of  their  home,  the  workers  lose  no 
time  in  making  it  habitable.  Without  delay  they  secrete 
wax  with  which  the  comb  is  built  up.  The  formation  of 
wax  is  a  very  interesting  process.  On  the  under  surface 
of  a  worker  bee  there  are  four  pairs  of  thin,  five-sided 
plates,  called  wax  plates.  They  are  perforated  with  a 
number  of  fine  holes  through  which  the  wax  oozes ;  it 
is  really  formed  by  certain  cells  of  the  skin  beneath  the 
plates.  The  wax-producing  workers  fortify  themselves 
for  their  task  by  eating  an  inordinate  amount  of  honey 
— it  is  said  that  I  Ib.  of  wax  represents  a  consumption  of 
15  Ib.  of  honey.  Then  they  gather  together  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  form  a  festoon,  hanging  from  the  roof  of 
the  hive.  In  this  position  they  remain  for  hours,  or  maybe 
for  two  or  three  days,  during  which  time  they  contrive 
to  increase  the  temperature  of  their  bodies.  Eventually 
their  transparent,  shining  scales  appear  on  the  wax  plates. 
When  sufficient  wax  has  been  produced  it  is  nipped  off 
by  the  workers  by  means  of  special  nippers  on  their  hind 
legs,  chewed  up  in  their  mouths  so  that  it  will  be  well 
mixed  with  saliva  and  then  taken  to  the  spot  where  the 
comb  is  to  be  constructed.  Here  it  is  compressed  and 

19 


Social   Bees  and  Wasps 

moulded  by  the  mouth  parts  of  the  worker,  which  are  so 
modified  as  to  form  miniature  trowels,  till  the  well-known 
six-sided  cells  are  formed. 

Honey  is  so  frequently  sold  in  combs  for  the  table  that 
it  is  hardly  necessary  to  add  that  these  cells  are  always 
built  in  a  double  layer,  back  to  back,  a  common  wall 
separating  the  two  layers,  whilst  the  open  end  of  each  cell 
is  tilted  upwards,  ever  so  slightly,  to  prevent  the  honey 
from  flowing  out.  Honey  is  stored  in  cells  made  of  new 
wax  ;  for  the  brood  cells,  which  we  shall  mention  presently, 
old  wax  is  used,  or  even  wax  mixed  with  pollen.  Bees 
are  exceedingly  economical  of  their  wax,  and  damaged  or 
unwanted  cells  are  pulled  to  pieces  for  the  sake  of  their 
material,  which  is  used  in  making  other  cells. 

With  the  completion  of  the  cells  the  queen,  who  has 
already  been  mated  with  one  of  the  drones,  begins  her 
activities.  Selecting  certain  of  the  cells,  she  lays  a  single 
fertile  egg  in  the  bottom  of  each  one.  The  other  cells  are 
filled  by  the  workers  with  food  in  the  form  of  nectar,  sipped 
from  flowers  and  pollen.  After  three  days  the  eggs 
deposited  by  the  queen  hatch  ;  a  tiny,  white,  soft-bodied, 
helpless  grub  or  larva  comes  from  each  egg.  Their  advent 
is  the  signal  for  the  nurse  workers  to  bestir  themselves, 
for  the  grubs  are  quite  unable  to  feed  on  their  own  account. 
For  the  first  two  days  their  food  consists  of  nourishing 
"bee  jelly,"  a  substance  which  the  nurse  workers  have 
already  partially  digested  in  their  own  bodies,  pending 
the  time  when  they  regurgitate  it  to  feed  their  charges 
from  their  own  mouths.  This  food  is  literally  pumped 
into  the  cells,  so  that  the  larvae  are  actually  bathed  in  it, 
and  probably  a  good  deal  of  the  food  is  absorbed  through 
their  skins. 

Another  three  days  must  needs  elapse  before  the  nurses 
have  done  their  duty  to  their  charges.  During  this  time 
the  fare  is  modified  and  no  longer  consists  solely  of  "  bee 
jelly,"  but  also  of  nectar  and  pollen,  taken  from  the 
adjoining  cells.  After  its  five  days  of  special  diet  the 

20 


Social   Bees  and  Wasps 

youngster  has  grown  in  size  to  the  extent  of  nearly  filling 
its  cell  and  in  intelligence  to  the  point  of  being  able  to 
feed  itself.  The  nurse  accordingly  fills  up  the  remainder 
of  the  cell  with  "  bee  bread,"  which  is  merely  nectar  and 
pollen,  before  capping — that  is  to  say,  sealing  up — its 
open  end  with  wax.  After  a  day  or  two,  during  which  the 
larva  finishes  its  store  of  food,  it  changes  into  a  chrysalis 
or  pupa  within  the  cell,  and  there  it  remains  for  nearly  a 
fortnight  before  emerging  as  a  fully  developed  worker. 

Now  a  curious  thing  happens.  It  is  not  surprising  to 
learn  that  the  newly  born  bee  remains  within  the  hive 
for  nearly  a  fortnight  before  venturing  afield  on  foraging 
expeditions ;  it  is  surprising,  however,  to  learn  that  the 
duties  assigned  to  so  inexperienced  a  creature  are  those 
of  nurse  worker.  So  that  aiding  in  bringing  other  bees 
into  the  world  and  safely  through  their  infancy  is  the  first 
duty  of  the  newly  arrived  worker. 

As  the  queen  lays  her  eggs  continuously,  the  young  bees 
are  as  continuously  making  their  appearance,  and  before 
the  lapse  of  many  days  a  considerable  family  has  arisen. 
By  this  time  careful  study  of  the  comb  will  reveal  certain 
cells  which  are  larger  than  their  neighbours  ;  in  these  cells 
the  queen  lays  unfertilised  eggs.  The  ability  of  the  queen 
to  lay  fertilised  or  unfertilised  eggs  at  will  is  one  of  the 
most  extraordinary  phenomena  in  the  bee  world  and  has 
been  the  cause  of  considerable  argument  by  naturalists, 
but  that  she  can  do  so  has  been  proved  beyond  a  doubt. 
From  these  unfertilised  eggs  arise  larvae  which  are  fed  in 
the  manner  we  have  just  described,  and  they  develop, 
eventually,  not  into  workers,  but  into  drones. 

Up  to  this  point,  excluding  always  mishaps,  everything1 
has  gone  smoothly  for  the  queen  and  her  enormous  family. 
But  sooner  or  later  a  time  comes  when  the  home  is  no 
longer  large  enough  for  its  inmates,  and  it  is  a  time  fraught 
with  danger  for  the  queen  could  she  but  know  it.  The 
workers  betray  their  anxiety  by  becoming  vastly  excited. 
They  tear  down  the  walls  of  certain  cells  and  build  up  a 

21 


Social  Bees  and  Wasps 

veritable  giant  cell  around  one  of  the  fertilised  eggs.  Some- 
times several  of  these  cells  are  constructed.  The  larva 
which  hatches  from  the  favoured  egg  is  the  subject  of 
special  treatment  by  the  nurse  workers.  No  common  food 
will  suffice  for  its  needs,  nectar  and  pollen  are  taboo,  and 
throughout  its  existence  it  is  fed  on  "bee  jelly."  After 
five  days  the  larva  can  fend  for  itself,  so  a  store  of  the  jelly 
is  placed  beside  it  and  the  cell,  which  by  this  time  has 
been  fashioned  roughly  to  the  shape  of  a  filbert,  is  capped. 
In  a  week  the  fully  developed  bee  eats  its  way  out  of  the 
cell,  after  having  intimated  that  it  is  about  to  do  so  by 
curious  squeaks  which  are  answered  by  the  old  queen. 
After  so  much  care  and  attention,  it  is  only  fitting  that 
something  out  of  the  ordinary  should  come  into  the  bee 
world,  and  this  is  so,  for  the  new  arrival  is  a  queen. 

It  is  well  to  pause  here  to  consider  exactly  what  has 
happened.  Many  naturalists  own  that  the  surroundings 
of  an  animal  during  its  development  have  an  enormous 
influence  on  its  future,  and  they  draw  no  small  comfort 
from  the  case  of  the  bee.  The  larva  from  a  fertilised  egg, 
laid  in  a  small  cell  by  the  queen  bee,  fed  at  first  on  bee 
jelly,  then  on  nectar  and  honey,  develops  into  a  worker ; 
but  the  grub  from  the  same  egg,  if  laid  in  a  large  cell  and 
fed  solely  on  "  bee  jelly,"  turns  into  a  queen.  Seeing  that 
the  queen  and  worker  bee  differ  very  widely  in  structure 
and  in  habit,  the  phenomenon  is  certainly  remarkable. 

Now  there  is  a  law  in  the  bee  world  which  brooks  no 
transgression,  to  the  effect  that  one  hive  must  harbour  but 
one  queen,  so  the  advent  of  the  new  queen  means  trouble, 
and  the  trouble  is  not  always  of  the  same  kind.  Some- 
times the  rival  queens  will  fight  to  the  death ;  the  only 
occasion,  so  it  is  said,  on  which  the  queen  bee  uses  her 
sting.  At  other  times  the  workers  settle  the  question 
among  themselves  and,  gathering  in  a  compact  mass 
round  the  queen  they  have  decided  to  destroy,  they 
suffocate  or  "  ball "  her.  The  happiest,  and  a  frequent 
manner  of  settling  the  question  is  for  each  of  the  queens 

22 


Social  Bees  and  Wasps 

to  go  off  in  a  swarm  with  some  of  the  workers  and  form 
new  communities.  We  mentioned  that  more  than  one 
giant  cell  may  be  constructed  :  this  means  that  there  will 
be  several  queens  in  the  field,  but  that  all  of  them  should 
be  striving  for  supremacy  at  the  same  time  would  be  too 
much  for  any  well-conducted  hive.  The  workers  surmount 
the  difficulty  by  walling  up  the  giant  cells  in  such  a 
manner  that  the  emergence  of  the  queens  is  successive 
and  not  simultaneous. 

We  have  told  how  the  community  arises  and  how  it  is 
perpetuated,  for  swarming  does  not  mean  the  break-up 
of  the  old  community.  We  have  said  little,  however,  of 
the  tireless  activities  of  the  workers.  Now  the  worker 
bee  is  a  very  wonderful  creature.  In  other  insect  com- 
munities, the  ants  and  termites,  for  example,  there  are 
various  kinds  of  workers,  modified  in  structure  for  the 
better  performance  of  their  special  duties.  The  worker 
bee,  however,  is  a  veritable  maid-of-all-work.  Each 
individual  is  so  designed  that  it  may  efficiently 
perform  any  of  the  sundry  duties  that  may  fall  to 
its  lot. 

After  the  initial  fortnight  spent  in  nursing,  the  young 
worker  takes  part  in  foraging  expeditions  for  the  purpose 
of  collecting  pollen  and  honey,  in  the  shape  of  nectar. 
Each  worker  bee  is  clothed  with  branching  hairs  which 
are  an  invaluable  aid  in  pollen  collecting.  The  pollen  is 
taken  from  the  ripe  anthers  of  flowers,  either  in  the  mouth, 
or  the  fore-legs,  or  on  the  hairs  clothing  the  abdomen  of 
the  forager.  Having  become  well  laden  with  the  golden 
dust,  the  bee  manipulates  its  legs  in  a  manner  worthy  of 
a  contortionist,  and  collects  its  treasure  together,  before 
transferring  it  to  the  pollen  baskets  on  the  thighs  of  its 
hind  legs.  These  baskets  consist  of  a  hollow,  surrounded 
by  stiff  bristles  which  hold  the  pollen  in  place.  Laden 
with  its  booty,  the  forager  returns  to  the  hive  and,  with 
the  help  of  its  middle  legs,  takes  the  pollen  from  the 
baskets  and  deposits  it  in  an  empty  cell.  The  inside 

23 


Social  Bees  and  Wasps 

workers  attend  to  the  rest  by  pressing  the  pollen  well  into 
the  cell. 

Workers  also  collect  nectar.  This  is  sucked  up  from 
flowers  by  the  flexible  tongue  and  swallowed  into  the 
honey  sac,  which  is  really  part  of  the  stomach.  With  its 
burden,  the  worker  returns  to  the  hive,  and  either  passes 
the  nectar  to  the  mouth  of  another  bee  or  deposits  it  in  a 
clean  new  cell.  The  honey  sac  or  stomach  is  a  peculiar 
organ  ;  it  opens  into  the  true  stomach  by  two  little  slit-like 
openings.  Should  the  bee  become  hungry  during  its 
peregrinations,  it  opens  these  slits  and  the  nectar  passes 
into  the  true  stomach,  where  it  is  digested.  If  it  be  the 
aim  of  the  bee  to  bring  its  supply  to  the  hive,  it  keeps  the 
slits  shut,  so  that  the  only  means  of  exit  for  the  nectar  is 
through  its  mouth,  whence  it  passes  when  it  is  given  to 
another  worker  or  deposited  in  a  cell. 

The  conversion  of  nectar  into  bee  honey  is  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  happenings  in  the  daily  work  of  the  hive. 
Nectar  is  a  very  watery  liquid,  and  it  is  essential  that 
this  water  be  driven  off.  Now  all  liquids  pass  into  vapour 
more  readily  in  moving  than  in  still  air,  and  a  high 
temperature  is  also  helpful.  The  workers  seem  to  know 
this,  for  they  contrive  a  marvellous  system  of  ventilation 
which  at  once  purifies  the  air  in  the  hive  and  helps  to 
drive  off  the  surplus  moisture  from  the  nectar.  These 
living  ventilators  are  the  hardest  worked  bees  of  all.  In 
various  parts  of  the  hive,  and  especially  on  the  floor,  they 
settle  themselves,  with  their  heads  downwards  and  their 
hinder  parts  pointing  upwards,  the  while  they  vibrate 
their  wings  steadily  and  persistently,  thereby  causing  a 
draught.  The  active  workers  also,  by  their  very  activity 
on  and  about  the  comb,  raise  the  temperature  of  the  hive, 
and  thus  contribute  to  the  evaporation  of  moisture  from 
the  nectar. 

When  the  bees  are  ventilating  their  abode  "  a  strong 
current  of  warm  air  may  easily  be  felt  coming  out  of  the 
hive,  if  the  hand  be  quietly  brought  close  to  the  entrance. 

24 


Social  Bees  and  Wasps 

This  process  is  continued  all  night  to  a  greater  or  less 
extent,  and  is  the  cause  of  the  buzzing  that  may  be  heard 
inside  any  healthy  hive  long  after  dark  in  a  summer 
night."  Honey  in  this  state  would  soon  decompose  and 
be  useless  to  the  bees  as  well  as  to  mankind.  When  one 
considers  all  the  other  marvels  of  bee  life,  it  is  hardly 
surprising  to  find  that  this  point  has  not  been  neglected. 
A  small  quantity  of  formic  acid  is  added  to  the  honey, 
to  make  it  keep.  It  is  uncertain  whence  the  bee  derives 
this  acid ;  it  has  been  said  that  it  is  supplied  by  the 
poison  sacs  of  the  sting,  which  certainly  contain  formic 
acid.  It  is  more  probably  derived,  however,  from 
special  glands  in  the  head,  at  the  time  the  nectar  is 
regurgitated. 

Besides  pollen  and  nectar,  the  bees  bring  water  and 
propolis,  a  red  resinous  substance  derived  from  buds,  to 
their  home.  At  times  the  supply  of  moisture  in  the  hive 
reaches  a  low  ebb,  despite  the  rapid  evaporation  from  the 
watery  nectar.  As  a  result  the  young  larvae  are  over- 
come with  thirst  which  must  be  quenched.  Then  and 
then  only  the  foragers  fill  their  honey  stomachs  with 
water,  sipped  as  dew  from  leaves,  and  carry  it  back  to 
the  parched  youngsters  in  the  hive.  Propolis  is  used  in 
the  repair  of  the  cells ;  it  is  composed  of  the  gummy 
matter  which  oozes  from  certain  plants.'  It  is  carried  by 
the  foragers  in  their  pollen  baskets  and,  on  their  return 
to  the  hive,  is  used  at  once  and  never  stored  away  in  any 
of  the  cells. 

The  inside  workers,  to  which,  with  the  exception  of  the 
nurses,  we  have  paid  scant  attention,  are'  no  less  in- 
dustrious than  the  foragers.  The  greater  number,  of 
course,  find  employment  in  wax  and  honey  making,  cell 
building  and  repairing.  Others  are  told  off  to  attend  to 
the  ventilation ;  others,  again,  keep  the  hive  clean — 
excreta,  old  wax,  their  dead  comrades  and  other  refuse, 
which  perforce  collects  in  the  hive,  are  all  removed  by 
the  workers.  Then  there  are  the  doorkeepers.  The  bees 

25 


Social  Bees  and  Wasps 

are  too  wide  awake  to  allow  intruders  in  their  hive  if  they 
can  help  it,  so  certain  workers  are  given  posts  as  guardians 
of  the  entrance.  They  run  about  near  the  door,  caressing 
all  and  sundry  with  their  feelers,  to  discover  if  the 
strangers'  intentions  be  good  or  evil.  Wasps  are  frequent 
intruders,  for  they  are  always  eager  to  destroy  the  honey 
cells. 

By  night  the  inmates  of  the  hive  are  no  more  secure, 
for  it  is  then  that  the  dreaded  bee  moths,  both  large  and 
small,  steal  through  the  entrance  and  deposit  their  eggs 
about  the  hive.  The  larvae  which  hatch  from  these  eggs 
are  exceedingly  destructive ;  they  devour  the  wax  and  at 
the  same  time  spin  a  dense  silken  mantle  over  the  comb. 
However  vigilant  the  doorkeepers  may  be,  there  is  one 
enemy  with  which  they  cannot  cope,  in  the  shape  of  a 
little  bee  louse,  which  attaches  itself  to  the  hairy  coat 
of  the  bee  and,  plunging  its  mouth  into  some  vulnerable 
spot,  sucks  out  the  life  juices  of  its  host. 

The  well-known  bumblebee  dwells  in  a  smaller,  less 
perfect  community  than  its  relative  the  honey-bee  ;  more- 
over, the  workers  do  not  differ  very  markedly  from  the 
queens.  With  the  approach  of  winter,  all  the  bumble- 
bees, except  a  few  mated  queens,  die  off.  They  hide 
away  during  the  cold  weather  and  spend  the  time  in  a 
semi-torpid  state.  The  advent  of  warm  weather  brings 
each  queen  bumble-bee  from  her  hiding-place,  intent  on 
founding  a  new  community.  Unlike  her  domesticated 
relative,  who  takes  no  part  in  the  building  of  her  home, 
the  bumble-bee  queen  gathers  together  an  odd  assortment 
of  stray  herbage  and,  in  some  hollow  in  the  ground,  con- 
structs a  single  waxen  cell,  lined  with  a  paste  of  pollen 
and  honey.  Several  eggs  are  laid  in  the  cell  and  it  is 
then  closed  by  the  mother  bee ;  later  on  a  second  and  a 
third  cell  will  be  made,  each  one  being  fastened  to  its 
neighbour  by  a  glue  made  of  pollen  and  honey.  Before 
long  the  eggs  hatch  and  the  grubs  quickly  devour  the 
store  of  food  in  their  cell ;  then  the  queen  makes  a  hole 

26 


Social  Bees  and  Wasps 

in  the  lid  of  the  cell,  through  which  she  can  feed  her  grubs 
from  her  own  mouth. 

The  first  of  the  new  brood  of  bees  are  all  small  females, 
but  their  diminutive  size  does  not  prevent  them  from 
helping  their  mother,  with  the  consequent  rapid  growth 
of  the  community.  The  construction  of  further  cells  is 
left  to  the  workers ;  these  later  cells  are  not  lined  with 
pollen  and  honey,  but  the  grubs  are  fed  solely  by  the 
workers.  In  the  bumble-bee  community  there  are  workers 
of  various  sizes  and  their  duties  appear  to  depend  upon 
their  size.  The  large  workers  repair  the  exterior  of  the 
nest  and  gather  honey  ;  the  smaller  individuals  repair  the 
cells  and  tend  the  young.  At  this  period  the  eggs  are 
laid  by  the  queen,  several  together,  in  mere  hollows 
scooped  out  of  wax.  When  the  grubs  hatch  from  the 
eggs  they  remain  in  their  waxen  case,  but  soon  become 
separated  from  one  another  by  waxen  walls. 

The  nursing  of  the  larvae  is  most  interesting.  One  of 
the  workers  makes  a  small  hole  in  the  cell  and  a  nurse 
bee,  having  gathered  together  and  prepared  a  mixture  of 
pollen  and  honey,  injects  the  brownish  liquid  through  the 
hole  prepared  by  its  fellow.  The  inmates  of  the  cells 
devour  their  sweet  provender  with  evident  relish.  When 
they  are  fully  grown  they  spin  silken  cocoons,  from  which 
they  emerge  in  about  three  weeks.  The  vacated  cells  are 
promptly  put  in  order  by  the  other  workers,  their  upper 
parts  are  bitten  off  and  all  the  refuse  in  and  around  them 
is  removed,  so  that  a  number  of  clean,  cup-shaped  vessels 
remain;  these  are  used  as  receptacles  for  the  storage  of 
the  honey  and  pollen  brought  to  the  nest  by  the  foragers. 
Towards  the  end  of  the  summer  workers  no  longer  arise 
from  the  cells  ;  their  place  is  taken  by  males  or  drones  and 
fully  developed  females  or  queens.  These  couples  leave 
the  nest  after  their  arrival  in  the  world  and  the  bumble- 
bee community  comes  to  an  end. 

A  curious  statement  has  arisen  with  regard  to  these 
bees,  a  statement  which  has  ofttimes  been  confirmed,  yet 

27 


Social  Bees  and  Wasps 

is  still  received  with  scepticism.  It  is  said  that  every 
community,  of  certain  species,  is  aroused  to  its  daily  toil 
by  a  trumpeter,  who  sounds  the  reveille.  He  or  she  must 
be  an  early  bee,  for  work  with  the  bumble-bees  begins  at 
three  o'clock  or  so,  in  the  early  morning. 

There  is  a  fly,  or  rather  a  bee,  in  the  ointment,  or  in 
the  wax  of  the  bumble-bee  home.  A  lazy  individual  who 
goes  so  far  as  to  clothe  herself  in  raiment  remarkably 
similar  to  that  of  her  hosts  enters  the  nest,  constructs 
cells  and  deposits  her  eggs  therein.  And  there  her  labours 
end,  for  she  leaves  the  upbringing  of  her  family  to  the 
worker  bumble-bees  and  lives  an  idle  life  herself,  devouring 
the  pollen  and  honey  which  the  other  bees  bring  to  the 
nest. 

Darwin  told  a  neat  little  story  about  cats  and  clover 
in  which  bumble-bees  are  indirectly  concerned.  We  will 
give  the  story  as  it  is  told  by  Professor  J.  A.  Thompson, 
because  he  carries  his  point  a  step  further  than  Darwin. 
"  If  the  possible  seeds  in  the  flowers  of  the  purple  clover 
are  to  become  real  seeds,"  he  says, "  they  must  be  fertilised 
by  the  golden  dust  or  pollen  from  some  adjacent  clover 
plants.  But  as  this  pollen  is  unconsciously  carried  from 
flower  to  flower  by  the  bumble-bees,  the  proposition  must 
be  granted  that  the  more  bumble-bees,  the  better  next 
year's  clover  crop.  The  bumble-bees,  however,  have  their 
enemies  in  the  field-mice  or  voles  ;  so  that  the  fewer  field- 
mice,  the  more  bumble-bees,  and  the  better  next  year's 
clover  crop.  In  the  neighbourhood  of  villages,  however, 
it  is  well  known  that  the  cats  make  as  effective  war  on 
the  field-mice  as  the  latter  do  on  the  bees.  So  that  next 
year's  clover  crop  is  influenced  by  the  number  of  bumble- 
bees which  varies  with  the  number  of  field-mice,  that  is 
to  say,  with  the  abundance  of  cats ;  or,  to  go  a  step 
further,  with  the  number  of  lonely  ladies  in  the  village." 

We  cannot  afford  a  chapter  to  the  social  wasps,  but 
they  so  closely  resemble  the  bumble-bees,  in  many 
respects,  that  it  would  be  superfluous  to  describe  their 

28 


Social   Bees  and  Wasps 

activities  in  detail.  Our  common  wasps  and  hornets 
are  all  social  insects,  and  their  communities,  like  those  of 
the  bumble-bees,  come  to  an  end  with  the  approach  of 
autumn.  There  is  one  outstanding  point  of  interest 
about  the  social  wasps  :  they  are  the  original  paper-makers, 
from  which  man  himself  has  not  been  ashamed  to  copy. 
Nearly  all  these  insects  construct  their  combs  and  nests 
of  paper,  not  coarse  imitation  stuff,  but  paper  made  from 
real  wood-pulp.  In  fact  a  South  American  wasp  goes 
a  step  further  and  makes  its  nest  of  thick  pasteboard, 
with  a  covering  of  paper  so  fine  in  texture  that  it  may 
easily  be  written  upon  with  pen  and  ink. 

The  insects  prepare  their  wood-pulp  by  scraping  the 
wood  fibres  from  old  weather-beaten  fences,  etc.  A 
careful  examination  of  such  places,  in  the  summer-time, 
will  reveal  faint  scratches,  as  though  made  by  one's  finger- 
nail ;  these  are  the  marks  left  by  the  jaws  of  the  wasps. 
They  chew  up  the  wood  with  saliva  till  it  is  in  a  fit  state 
for  the  construction  of  their  nests.  As  in  the  case  of  the 
bumble-bees,  a  mated  queen,  which  has  survived  the 
winter,  founds  the  colony.  These  hibernating  queens 
may  often  be  found  on  lace  curtains  and  similar  situa- 
tions, suspended  by  their  jaws,  for  their  feet  are  rarely 
used  as  supports  in  this  torpid  state. 

The  cells  composing  the  comb  are  six-sided,  like  those 
of  the  honey-bee  ;  but  they  are  made  of  paper  instead  of 
wax,  for  no  wasp  possesses  the  wax  plates  of  the  honey- 
bee ;  the  cells  also  are  in  a  single  instead  of  a  double 
layer.  In  most  cases  the  cells  are  vertical,  a  position 
which  one  might  consider  dangerous  for  the  young  grub. 
Every  provision,  however,  is  made  against  its  falling  out. 
When  young  it  is  glued  to  the  cell ;  as  it  grows  older  it 
becomes  so  plump  that  it  is  wedged  tightly  between  the 
encircling  cell  walls. 

The  queen  herself  constructs  the  first  cells  of  the  nest, 
and  her  work  may  always  be  distinguished  by  the  finer 
texture  of  the  material  used  in  its  construction.  She 

29 


Social   Bees  and  Wasps 

covers  these  cells  with  an  umbrella-shaped  shelter  to 
protect  them  from  moisture  and  keep  them  warm.  Later 
this  shelter  is  made  into  a  complete  envelope  for  the  cells, 
but  for  a  small  opening  on  the  lower  surface — a  door  for 
the  wasps  to  enter  and  leave  their  home.  In  each  of  her 
cells  the  queen  deposits  a  single  egg  and  in  about  a  week 
the  larvae  hatch.  The  queen  feeds  them  on  insect  food 
which  they  are  able  to  masticate  in  their  relatively  strong 
jaws.  They  grow  so  rapidly  that  their  mother  perforce 
must  make  constant  additions  to  the  length  of  their  cells, 
lest  they  outgrow  their  temporary  homes.  Within  the 
cell  the  grub  spins  a  silken  cocoon,  from  which  it  emerges 
in  about  a  month  from  the  time  of  egg-laying  as  a  perfect 
wasp.  Her  first  impulse  on  coming  into  the  world  is  to 
clean  herself,  and  her  toilet  is  performed  with  the  greatest 
care.  She  carries  her  brush  and  comb  on  her  front  legs, 
so  they  are  always  at  hand  when  she  requires  them.  Her 
toilet  completed,  she  visits  some  of  the  larvae  which  are 
almost  ready  to  spin  their  cocoons  and  caresses  their  heads. 

Evidently  pleased  with  such  unwonted  attention,  the 
larvae  give  up  a  minute  drop  of  liquid  which  the  young 
wasp  readily  drinks.  For  the  first  two  days  she  helps  the 
queen  to  feed  the  larvae,  after  that  she  leaves  the  nest  and 
becomes  a  forager  of  food  or  wood-pulp.  With  the  arrival 
of  the  first  dozen  or  so  workers  the  queen  relinquishes 
all  her  work,  with  the  exception  of  egg-laying.  The 
workers  enlarge  the  nest  as  the  exigencies  of  the  family 
may  dictate ;  often  it  is  necessary  to  make  the  burrow, 
in  which  the  nest  is  situated,  more  commodious.  Then 
the  workers  may  be  seen  issuing  in  a  living  stream,  each 
one  bearing  a  little  pellet  of  earth  in  its  mouth,  a  tiny  con- 
tribution towards  the  engineering  feats  of  the  community. 

Though  man  has  copied  the  paper-making  of  the  social 
wasps,  he  has  not  yet  gone  so  far  as  to  emulate  their 
architecture,  and  it  would  be  difficult  to  do  so,  for  the 
wasps  build  their  houses  from  above  downwards.  We 
could  hardly  build  our  attics  before  our  basements. 

30 


CHAPTER   II 

SOLITARY  BEES  AND  WASPS 

OF  the  so-called  solitary  bees,  none  are  more  interesting 
or  display  more  ingenuity  in  the  construction  of  their 
nests  than  the  leaf-cutting  bees  of  this  country.  To  lie 
on  a  bed  of  roses  is  supposed  to  signify  a  life  of  ease  and 
luxury ;  maybe  this  is  the  lot  of  the  young  leaf-cutter 
bees,  for  in  their  larval  stage,  at  any  rate,  if  they  are  not, 
strictly  speaking,  provided  with  beds  of  roses,  their  abodes 
are  lined  with  rose  leaves.  Usually  the  leaf-cutter  bee 
selects  some  old  and  weather-beaten  willow  for  its  nest ; 
in  one  of  the  branches  of  the  tree  it  makes  a  tunnel,  a  feat 
which  is  easily  accomplished,  for  the  pith  has  generally 
decayed  away.  Sometimes  the  burrow  is  in  the  ground, 
then  some  disused  worm-hole  comes  in  handy, 

Wherever  the  site,  when  it  is  once  settled  the  mother 
bee  betakes  herself  to  some  plant,  a  rose-bush  or  privet  or 
to  some  gaudy-petalled  flower,  such  as  a  geranium,  and 
busies  herself  with  a  careful  examination  of  its  leaves  or 
flowers.  The  rose-bush  seems  to  be  the  favourite.  When 
she  has  once  made  up  her  mind  which  is  the  most  suitable 
leaf  for  her  operations,  she  loses  no  time  in  cutting  it  up. 
There  is  no  neater  cutter  of  material  in  Savile  Row  than 
the  leaf-cutter  bee.  Perfectly  circular  or  oval  pieces  are 
cut,  according  to  the  use  to  which  they  are  to  be  put. 
So  accurate  are  the  circles  that  one  cannot  help  wondering 
how  the  insect  accomplishes  the  feat.  A  peep  at  one  of 
these  bees  at  work  will  soon  provide  an  explanation. 

During  the  performance  of  her  feat  the  bee  converts 
herself  into  a  living  compass.  She  straddles  the  margin 
of  the  leaf  with  her  hind  legs,  plants  them  firmly  against 
either  surface,  thus  using  her  legs  as  one  arm  of  the 


Solitary  Bees  and  Wasps 

compass  ;  with  her  mouth  as  the  second  arm  she  bites 
her  way  through  the  tissues  of  the  leaf.  Towards  the 
end  of  the  cut  her  wings  begin  to  vibrate  rapidly,  and  not 
without  reason,  for  with  the  severance  of  the  piece  of  leaf 
she  will  be  left  without  any  solid  support. 

Directly  the  leaf  is  cut  she  folds  her  piece  in  the 
middle,  takes  firm  hold  with  three  legs  on  each  side  and 
flies  off  with  it  to  her  tunnel  She  bends  the  piece  of  leaf 
to  fit  the  curve  of  the  walls  of  her  tunnel  and  pushes 
it  through  the  opening.  This  performance  she  repeats 
time  and  again,  using  circular  pieces  for  the  ends  of  her 
cells  and  oblong  ones  for  the  sides.  Eventually  she  con- 
trives one  of  the  prettiest  pieces  of  insect  handiwork 
imaginable.  Each  little  cell  resembles  a  miniature 
thimble  composed  solely  of  leaves  or  petals,  glued 
together  with  wax.  Each  piece  of  leaf  includes  a  portion 
of  the  serrated  margin,  an  arrangement  which  appears  to 
aid  in  the  better  adhesion  of  the  pieces.  In  each  cell  the 
mother  bee  deposits  a  single  egg  and  a  little  bee  bread. 
Then  she  puts  a  circular  piece  of  leaf  on  the  top  and  pro- 
ceeds with  the  construction  of  another  cell,  and  so  on,  till 
she  has  built  up  a  string  of  cells,  maybe  two  inches  or  more 
in  length,  and  so  strong  that,  with  the  drying  of  the  leaves, 
they  will  bear  comparatively  rough  treatment.  Often  the 
complete  nests  contain  as  many  as  thirty  cells,  with  an 
average  of  about  the  same  number  of  pieces  of  leaf  in  each 
cell.  Nearly  a  thousand  rose-leaf  snippings,  all  cut  with 
mathematical  accuracy,  represents  no  mean  feat  on  the 
part  of  the  bee,  and  the  expenditure  of  about  three  weeks' 
labour. 

This  industrious  little  bee  is  not  without  her  enemies  and, 
curiously  enough,  the  worst  of  them  is  one  of  her  own  kind. 
The  parasite  bee  is  a  cunning  creature.  Experience  has 
taught  it  that,  from  the  nature  of  her  work,  the  leaf-cutter 
bee  must  needs  be  absent  from  home  very  frequently. 
This  is  the  eventuality  for  which  the  parasite  is  waiting. 
When  the  leaf  cell  is  partly  completed,  and  the  owner  has 

32 


SOLITARY    WASPS 


In  the  upper  part  of  the  picture  a  solitary  wasp  is  seen  attacking  a  caterpillar  on  a  le..f. 
Beneath  is  another  of  the  same  species  busy  pounding  the  entrance  to  its  burrow  with  a 
pebble. 


Solitary  Bees  and  Wasps 

begun  to  store  it  with  bee  bread,  the  intruder  secretly  and 
rapidly  enters  and  deposits  a  single  egg  in  the  food  mass. 
The  leaf-cutter,  unaware  that  there  is  anything  wrong, 
continues  her  work,  fully  stocks  her  cell  with  food,  lays 
an  egg  therein  and  seals  it  with  a  circular  piece  of  leaf. 
Then  she  proceeds  with  the  construction  of  another  cell  in 
blissful  ignorance  that  her  labour  is  in  vain.  The  larva 
of  the  parasite  bee  is  the  first  to  hatch,  but  it  is  followed 
a  little  later  by  the  rightful  owner  of  the  cell.  Both  larvae 
feed  on  the  bee  bread,  the  parasite  from  below,  the  leaf- 
cutter  from  above. 

The  parasite,  having  the  bigger  appetite,  grows  the 
faster  and  soon  reaches  his  less  fortunate  cell  companion. 
When  they  meet  a  battle  royal  takes  place,  in  which  the 
larger  and  stronger  parasite  always  comes  off  victorious. 
Not  content  with  this  treatment,  and  having  finished  the 
store  of  bee  bread,  it  makes  a  meal  of  its  victim.  A  little 
later,  instead  of  a  leaf-cutter  bee,  a  parasite  bee  emerges 
from  the  cell.  As  the  leaf-cutter,  though  ingenious,  can 
hardly  be  called  a  friend  of  the  rose-grower,  perhaps  the 
tragedy  enacted  in  the  leafy  cell  is  all  for  the  best,  in  this 
best  of  all  worlds. 

The  carpenter-bees,  or  rather  their  architectural  efforts, 
are  not  altogether  dissimilar  to  those  of  the  bees  we 
have  just  mentioned.  For  the  most  part  they  are  tropical 
insects  and  remarkable  for  their  enormous  size.  In 
appearance  they  somewhat  resemble  very  large  bumble- 
bees, though  their  bodies  are  flatter  and  less  hairy.  Some- 
times the  males  and  females  are  so  unlike  one  another 
that  they  have  been  described  by  entomologists  as 
belonging  to  different  species.  Whatever  the  species  and 
whatever  its  habitat,  the  carpenter-bee  always  works  in  the 
same  methodical  way — that  is  to  say,  when  it  does  work, 
for  not  all  bees  are  industrious  and  this  bee,  given  the 
opportunity,  is  one  of  the  lazy  ones,  using  an  old  nest  in 
preference  to  making  a  new  one. 

Let  us  watch  this  insect  carpenter  at  work  and  note  that 

c  33 


Solitary  Bees  and   Wasps 

she  leaves  nothing  to  chance.  Her  first  care  is  to  select 
a  site  for  her  home,  and  this  is  either  a  dead  tree,  a  wooden 
post  or  some  similar  structure.  Having  chosen  a  suitable 
spot,  she  proceeds  to  bore  a  perfectly  symmetrical  hole, 
just  large  enough  to  permit  her  to  enter,  across  the  grain 
of  the  wood.  She  bores  in  this  manner,  using  her  jaws 
for  the  purpose,  till  the  cavity  is  just  the  length  of  her 
body.  Then  she  turns  at  right  angles  and  tunnels  directly 
downwards,  with  the  grain,  for  from  eighteen  inches  to  two 
feet.  Her  rate  of  progress  depends  largely  on  the  hard- 
ness of  the  wood,  but  in  moderately  hard  timber  she 
tunnels  almost  half-an-inch  a  day. 

All  the  sawdust  which  is  made  during  her  work  is  used 
by  the  bee  at  a  later  stage  and  for  the  time  being  is  care- 
fully stored  away  in  safe  keeping,  usually  in  some  hollow 
in  the  tree  on  which  she  is  working.  Having  completed 
her  task  as  a  carpenter,  the  bee  flies  around  and  seeks 
honey  and  pollen  with  which  she  stores  the  bottom  of  her 
tunnel.  On  this  "  bee  bread  "  she  deposits  a  single  egg 
and  then  proceeds  to  build  a  roof,  composed  of  the  saw- 
dust she  has  saved,  mingled  with  her  saliva.  The  roof  or 
partitions  which  form  chambers  in  the  tunnel  vary  in 
structure  with  the  different  kinds  of  carpenter-bee.  In 
general,  they  are  about  the  thickness  of  a  penny  and 
composed  of  about  four  layers  of  macerated  sawdust. 
Each  partition  forms  a  roof  to  the  cell  below  and  a  floor 
to  the  one  above  ;  the  roofs  are  rough  and  flat,  whilst  the 
floors  are  smooth  and  concave.  The  bee  repeats  her  work 
time  and  again  till,  in  the  end,  the  completed  nest  is  com- 
posed of  a  tunnel  divided  into  several  chambers,  often  as 
many  as  twelve,  one  above  the  other.  In  each  chamber 
there  is  a  store  of  "  bee  bread  "  and  a  single  egg.  When 
her  labours  are  almost  completed,  the  last  act  of  the 
mother  bee  is  to  seal  the  mouth  of  the  tunnel  with  the 
same  material  she  has  used  in  making  its  partitions. 

There  is  a  family  of  very  small  yet  very  active  little  bees, 
some  of  which  are  native  to  this  country,  which  are  known 

34 


Solitary   Bees  and  Wasps 

as  small  carpenter-bees.  They  have  been  given  the  name 
because  their  nests  somewhat  resemble  those  of  the  true 
carpenter-bees.  These  diminutive  insects  are  not  hairy,  as 
are  most  of  the  other  bees,  yet  they  are  remarkable  for  the 
brilliancy  of  their  colouring,  the  prevailing  shades  being 
blue,  blue-black,  black  or  green,  with  a  metallic  sheen. 
Being  tiny  creatures,  they  do  not  possess  the  architectural 
capabilities  of  the  bees  from  which  they  take  their  name, 
so  they  select  plants  with  a  soft  pith  for  their  operations. 
The  British  species  makes  its  home  in  the  bramble ; 
hunting  about  till  it  finds  a  broken  branch,  it  has  no 
difficulty  in  scooping  the  pith  from  within.  The  whole 
of  the  tunnel  thus  formed  is  lined  with  a  delicate  silky 
membrane.  It  is  partitioned  into  chambers,  much  in  the 
same  way  as  is  the  tunnel  of  the  carpenter-bee,  but,  instead 
of  using  the  material  taken  from  its  burrow  for  the 
purpose,  the  bee  collects  little  pellets  of  mud  and  with 
these  constructs  her  partitions,  storing  each  cell  with 
honey,  pollen  and  a  single  egg  after  the  manner  of  all 
solitary  bees. 

The  wool-carder  bee  constructs  a  nest  which  is  worthy 
of  notice  ;  in  appearance  it  is  a  ball  of  white  wool  enclosing 
the  wax  cells.  It  is  said  of  this  bee  that  it  never  makes 
a  hole  of  its  own  in  which  to  place  its  nest,  but  that  it 
prefers  door  locks,  snail  shells,  etc.  The  "wool "  of  which 
this  bee  constructs  its  nest  is  obtained  from  the  hairs  of 
various  plants.  Gilbert  White,  in  his  Natural  History  of 
Selborne,  wrote  of  this  insect :  "  There  is  a  sort  of  wild  bee 
frequenting  the  garden-campion  for  the  sake  of  its 
tomentum,  which  probably  it  turns  to  some  purpose  in  the 
business  of  nidification.  It  is  very  pleasant  to  see  with 
what  address  it  strips  off  the  pubes,  running  from  the  top 
to  the  bottom  of  the  branch,  and  shaving  it  bare  with  the 
dexterity  of  a  hoop-shaver.  When  it  has  got  a  bundle 
almost  as  large  as  itself  it  flies  away,  holding  it  secure 
between  its  chin  and  its  fore-legs." 

The  ingenuity  displayed  by  the  solitary  bee  is  diverted 

35 


Solitary   Bees   and  Wasps 

into  the  most  varied  channels.  We  have  mentioned  the  leaf- 
cutters  and  carpenters,  then  there  are  potters  and  masons  ; 
cuckoo-bees,  so  called  because  they  resemble  cuckoos  in 
habit,  as  nearly  as  an  insect  can  resemble  a  bird  ;  blunt- 
tongued  burrowing  bees  and  sharp-tongued  bees  of  similar 
habit.  Of  the  latter  there  are  an  enormous  number  of 
species  in  this  country  alone.  They,  or  rather  the  females, 
dig  moderately  deep  holes  in  the  soil — clay  is  preferred — 
and  at  the  end  of  the  burrow  an  oval  chamber  is  con- 
structed. The  walls  of  these  chambers  are  always  quite 
hard,  for  they  are  well  "  puddled "  by  the  females,  and 
not  without  reason.  They  are  used  as  storehouses  for  the 
honey  and  pollen  destined  to  nourish  the  larvae,  so  that, 
unless  the  walls  were  well  hardened,  the  honey  would  soak 
into  the  soil  and  be  lost  to  the  bee.  Nature  seems  to  have 
ordained  that  the  males  of  the  sharp-tongued  burrowing 
bees  should  be  lazy,  for  she  has  provided  them  with  fore- 
legs which  are  useless  for  digging  and  hind  legs  which  are 
unable  to  carry  pollen. 

The  solitary  wasps  differ  from  the  bees  of  similar  habit 
in  one  very  remarkable  particular :  whereas  the  food  of 
the  bee  larva  in  every  case  consists  of  "bee  bread,"  that  of 
the  wasp  larvae  always  consists  of  insects,  and  each  species 
of  solitary  wasps  stores  its  larder  with  a  special  kind  of 
insect.  Some  of  these  wasps  are  partial  to  spiders,  which, 
by  the  way,  are  not  insects  at  all ;  others  prefer  beetles, 
others  again  cockroaches  or  locusts  or  cicadas,  and  so  on, 
each  species  exhibiting  a  partiality  for  a  particular  species 
of  insect.  Of  the  solitary  wasps  none  are  more  interesting 
than  the  sand-wasps.  Small  wonder  that  Fabre,  who  was 
described  as  the  insects'  Homer,  made  them  the  object  of 
special  study.  Though  others  have  described  their  habits 
more  accurately,  the  French  naturalist  always  contrived 
to  weave  a  beautiful  romance  around  his  beloved  insects 
and  their  doings. 

The  sand-wasps  excavate  tunnels  in  the  earth,  using 
their  mouths  for  the  work.  Their  jaws  are  remarkably 

36 


Solitary  Bees  and  Wasps 

strong,  and  with  them  they  bite  at  the  earth  till  they  have 
removed  a  pellet.  Then  they  come  to  the  surface  with 
their  burden  in  their  mouths  and  deposit  it  a  short 
distance  away  from  the  entrance  to  their  burrow.  All 
the  time  they  are  at  work  they  keep  up  a  loud  buzzing, 
apparently  with  the  object  of  scaring  away  strangers. 
After  the  completion  of  her  burrowing  operations  the 
female  covers  the  door  of  her  nest  with  a  small  pebble, 
and  over  this,  in  turn,  she  scrapes  dry  earth,  tamping  it 
down,  marvellous  to  relate,  with  a  small  stone  held  in  her 
powerful  jaws.  Over  all  she  often  places  a  few  pieces  of 
dried  grass.  The  solicitude  of  the  mother  wasp  for  the 
effectual  concealment  of  her  burrow  is  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  traits  of  these  wonderful  insects.  Sometimes 
the  wasp  will  return  again  and  again  to  the  site  of  her 
home,  to  assure  herself  that  all  is  well.  On  these  visits 
she  frequently  places  other  objects  over  the  burrow  to 
make  assurance  doubly  sure. 

Having  made  certain  that  she  has  done  all  that  is 
possible  to  hide  her  nest,  the  wasp  hunts  about  for  insect 
prey.  Some  sand-wasps  prefer  caterpillars  and  others 
spiders.  Having  found  a  suitable  insect  for  her  purpose, 
she  stings  it  in  such  a  manner  that,  although  it  is  for  ever 
incapable  of  movement,  it  does  not  actually  die,  and  there 
is  reason  in  her  action.  Bearing  her  burden  with  unerring 
accuracy  to  her  burrow,  she  removes  the  earth  and  stones 
from  its  mouth  and  enters,  dragging  her  paralysed  prey 
after  her.  The  end  of  the  burrow  is  formed  into  a 
chamber.  Here  she  leaves  her  living  burden,  deposits  an 
egg  upon  it  and  flies  away  in  search  of  further  provision 
for  her  larder,  after  carefully  closing  and  concealing  the 
entrance  to  her  home.  More  provender  is  collected  and 
stored  in  the  same  way  and  an  egg  deposited  upon  each 
individual,  then  the  life  work  of  the  mother  wasp  is  com- 
pleted. Her  last  act  is  to  conceal  the  entrance  to  her 
burrow,  and  this  she  does  with  scrupulous  care,  for  never- 
more will  she  be  able  to  tend  it.  Satisfied  with  her  efforts, 

37 


Solitary  Bees  and  Wasps 

she  flies  away  as  far  as  her  failing  strength  will  carry  her, 
and  dies.  The  young  sand-wasps,  however,  will  perpetuate 
her  work,  for  her  eggs  will  furnish  lusty  grubs  well  pro- 
vided with  living  food,  seeing  that  their  mother  was  careful 
to  paralyse  and  not  to  kill  her  prey,  thereby  ensuring  that 
it  would  be  in  fresh  condition  for  her  offspring. 

Two  American  entomologists  noticed  a  very  distinct 
personality  among  the  female  sand-wasps  they  watched  at 
work.  "  This  personality  was  not  of  individual  appearance 
but  of  such  mental  attributes  as  careful  painstaking  or 
carelessness,  and  industry  or  laziness.  One  seemed  to 
hurry  tremendously  and  spent  no  time  on  non-essentials. 
Another  was  an  artist,  working  for  a  long  time  on  the 
closing  of  her  burrow,  arranging  the  surface  with 
scrupulous  care  and  sweeping  away  every  possible  particle 
of  dust  to  a  distance.  Still  another  went  to  the  extreme 
in  carelessness,  carrying  the  caterpillar  in  a  very  careless 
way  and  making  a  nest  which  was  a  very  poor  affair. 
Still  a  fourth  was  the  most  fastidious  and  perfect  little 
worker  of  the  whole  season,  so  nice  was  she  in  her  adapta- 
tion of  means  to  ends,  so  busy  and  contented  in  her 
labour  of  love,  and  so  pretty  in  her  pride  of  her  completed 
work.  In  fact,  they  seem  to  have  almost  as  much  in- 
dividuality as  human  beings,  and  the  result  of  these 
observations  has  a  strong  bearing  on  the  discussion  of 
instinct."  Fabre,  the  ^French  entomologist,  who  studied 
the  same  insects,  considered  that  they  were  inspired  by 
automatically  perfect  instincts  which  can  never  have 
varied  to  any  appreciable  extent  from  the  beginning  of 
time.  Deviation  from  the  regular  rule,  he  thought,  would 
mean  extinction.  The  American  authorities,  however, 
found  that  variability  was  "  the  one  unmistakable  and  ever- 
present  fact,  and  this  variability  existed  in  every  particular  : 
in  the  shape  of  the  nest  and  in  the  manner  of  digging  it, 
whether  it  is  left  closed  or  open,  in  the  manner  of  stinging 
the  prey  and  of  crushing  it,  in  the  manner  of  carrying  the 
victim,  in  the  way  of  closing  the  nest  and  in  the  condition 

38 


Solitary   Bees  and  Wasps 

produced  in  the  victim  by  the  stinging,  some  dying  and 
others  living  for  a  long  time  though  nearly  motionless." 

Every  imaginable  variation  of  the  nesting  and  food- 
storing  habits  of  the  sand-wasps  may  be  found  amongst 
their  near  relatives.  One  solitary  wasp  lays  in  a  store  of 
cockroaches  ;  its  nest  is  always  built  in  walls  between  the 
crevices  of  the  stones,  and  the  entrance  thereto  is  usually 
large  enough  to  admit  an  average-sized  cockroach.  Now 
the  cockroach,  for  reasons  which  it  is  outside  our  province 
to  discuss,  is  very  variable  in  size — in  short,  it  grows — and 
unlike  the  wasp  which  preys  upon  it,  or  the  house-fly  or 
the  dragon-fly,  is  not  of  the  same  dimensions  when  it 
makes  its  entrance  into  the  world  as  when  it  makes  its 
exit.  This  is  awkward  for  the  wasp,  for  a  day  assuredly 
arrives  when  its  prey  is  too  large  to  be  dragged  into  the 
nest.  Such  a  happening,  however,  does  not  daunt  the 
little  huntress.  Her  first  act  is  to  snip  off  the  horny  wing- 
cases  of  her  victim,  thereby  allowing  its  body  to  be  com- 
pressed. Then  probably  a  leg  will  become  jammed  in 
the  doorway  and  cause  an  obstruction ;  again  the  wasp  is 
equal  to  the  occasion  and  amputates  the  offending  limb, 
and  so  on,  till  finally  the  sadly  dismembered  cockroach 
is  safely  within  the  burrow.  »••'. 

Another  of  these  wasps  does  not  seem  to  have  fully 
learned  the  art  of  completely  paralysing  the  creatures 
destined  for  the  food  of  its  grubs.  Moreover,  it  is  obvi- 
ously conscious  of  its  shortcomings,  therefore  the  spiders 
on  which  it  preys  suffer  amputation  of  their  legs,  so  that, 
should  they  recover  consciousness,  they  are  unable  to 
escape  from  the  nest.  The  case  of  yet  another  of  these 
wasps  is  even  more  hopeless,  at  least  it  would  be  hopeless 
but  for  the  ingenuity  of  the  mother  wasp.  As  one  writer 
aptly  puts  it,  she  has  not  inherited  from  her  ancestors  the 
receipt  for  the  paralysing  sting.  It  is  impossible,  there- 
fore, for  this  wasp  to  lay  up  a  store  of  living  food.  She 
builds  her  nest  somewhat  after  the  fashion  of  the  sand- 
wasp  and  deposits  her  eggs  therein.  At  the  time  the 

39 


Solitary  Bees  and  Wasps 

larvae  emerge  the  mother  wasp  goes  on  a  foraging  ex- 
pedition and  returns  with  a  small  fly,  with  which  she  feeds 
her  progeny.  Each  time  she  leaves  the  nest  she  carefully 
covers  the  entrance ;  every  time  she  returns  with  prey  she 
must  perforce  remove  the  covering.  As  the  larvae  grow 
so  do  the  flies  supplied  by  the  mother  wasp  increase  in 
size ;  starting  with  the  most  minute  flies,  she  so  orders 
her  household  that  the  final  larvae  meals  shall  consist  of 
plump  gadflies.  She  feeds  her  young  exactly  after  the 
manner  of  a  bird,  with  the  added  labour  of  filling  up  the 
entrance  to  her  nest  over  and  over  again. 

A  straightforward  recital  of  the  ingenious  nesting  habits 
of  the  solitary  wasps  conveys  no  idea  of  the  dangers  they 
encounter  in  their  hunt  for  prey.  Crickets  and  locusts, 
which  some  of  them  attack,  are  provided  with  very  strong 
hind  legs,  and  active  withal,  so  that  a  false  move  on  the 
part'  of  the  wasp  would  afford  the  victim  a  chance  to 
disembowel  its  enemy — a  chance  that  would  not  be 
allowed  to  pass.  Certain  solitary  wasps  prey  upon  spiders 
much  larger  than  themselves,  and  spiders  possess  cruel 
poison  fangs  which  they  do  not  hesitate  to  use.  Is  it 
surprising,  then,  to  learn  that  the  wasps  engage  in  sham 
fights  with  one  another,  to  keep  in  training  for  their 
encounters  with  the  spiders  ?  Mr  Latter  thus  describes 
one  of  these  sparring  matches  :  "  Frequently  two  females 
—note  this  is  no  love  dance,  for  both  are  females — may 
be  seen  to  settle  down  face  to  face  on  a  patch  of  sand,  to 
move  round  and  round  as  though  searching  for  an  oppor- 
tunity, to  lean  over  first  on  one  and  then  on  the  other 
side,  and  from  time  to  time  to  lash  round  with  their 
wonderfully  flexible  abdomens  as  though  delivering  a 
stab  from  the  venomous  sting. 

"  In  their  actual  encounters  with  the  spiders  it  behoves 
them  ever  to  face  the  enemy,  for  the  poison  fangs  of  the 
spider  are  situated  at  the  head  end,  and  it  is  thus  from 
that  quarter  that  danger  threatens.  The  wasp,  on  the 
contrary,  carries  her  weapon  at  the  tip  of  her  tail,  and 

40 


Solitary   Bees  and  Wasps 

needs  to  be  expert  in  at  once  keeping  her  eye  on  the  foe 
and  at  the  same  time  delivering  an  attack  from  her  rear 
armament.  Of  course  the  poor  spider  is  heavily  handi- 
capped by  the  absence  of  wings,  which  enable  the  wasp 
to  move  and  make  circles  round  her  less  agile  opponent." 
The  graceful  little  mud-wasps  are  often  described  in 
natural  history  books,  because  of  their  curiously  formed 
little  earthen  nests,  and  the  still  more  extraordinary  places 
in  which  they  build  them,  such  as  door-locks,  window 
catches,  cotton  reels,  and  the  like.  An  ingenious  nesting 
habit  which  is  rarely  mentioned  is  worth  a  moment's 
attention.  In  each  cell  the  little  wasp  deposits  a  single 
egg  and  a  store  of  paralysed  caterpillars,  which,  by  the 
way,  are  usually  pushed  into  their  hiding-place  by  means 
of  the  wasp's  head.  The  egg  is  always  suspended  by  a 
silken  thread  to  the  roof  of  the  cell  in  such  a  manner  that 
it  hangs  just  clear  of  the  nearest  caterpillar.  The  wasp 
grub,  when  it  comes  into  the  world,  is  very  fragile,  and 
might  easily  be  mortally  wounded  by  any  movement  on 
the  part  of  its  living  fare.  Therefore,  tethered  as  it  were 
to  the  silken  thread,  it  makes  its  first  meal  out  of  harm's 
way,  off  the  nearest  caterpillar.  But  more  wonders  are 
yet  to  come.  It  is  necessary  for  the  wasp  larva  to  reach 
more  food,  and  it  is  yet  too  feeble  to  venture  alone  in  its 
larder.  The  difficulty  is  overcome  in  this  manner.  The 
egg,  from  which  the  larva  has  emerged,  breaks  up  into 
a  ribbon,  thereby  lengthening  the  tether  and  enabling 
the  hungry  little  being  to  reach  more  of  its  food  supply. 
With  increasing  age  the  young  wasp  larva  gains  strength, 
so  that  the  last  of  its  provisions,  in  the  shape  of  the 
caterpillars,  are  devoured  without  the  aid  of  the  protecting 
silken  thread. 


CHAPTER    III 

ANTS 

No  insect,  with  the  possible  exception  of  the  bee,  has 
been  more  highly  and  more  frequently  eulogised  than  the 
ant.  From  Biblical  times  to  the  present  day  its  industry 
has  been  considered  worthy  of  imitation.  There  is  another, 
more  subtle,  reason  why  the  ant  appeals  to  man.  Its 
habit  of  living  in  permanent  communities  bears  an  un- 
deniable resemblance  to  our  own  condition.  "  In  order 
to  live  in  permanent  commonwealths  an  organism  must  be 
not  only  remarkably  adaptive  to  changes  in  its  external 
environment,  but  must  also  have  an  intense  feeling  of 
co-operation,  forbearance  and  affection  towards  the  other 
members  of  its  community." 

Ants  occupy  a  unique  position  in  the  insect  world 
because  of  the  number  of  their  individuals  and  kinds  ; 
their  wide  distribution  over  the  earth  ;  their  longevity, 
their  perfect  adaptation  and  special  modes  of  life  and  their 
relationships  with  plants  and  other  animals,  including 
man.  Wherever  one  goes,  ants  may  be  found — from  the 
Polar  regions  to  the  Tropics,  from  the  dampest  forests 
to  the  driest  deserts,  on  the  summits  of  the  highest 
mountains  or  on  the  seashore.  Their  colonies  often  out- 
live a  generation  of  men.  They  are  not  handicapped  in 
their  mode  of  life  like  other  social  insects  ;  their  diet  is  not 
restricted,  as  in  the  case  of  the  termites  and  bees ;  nor, 
as  a  rule,  do  they  build  their  nests  of  expensive  material, 
so  that  they  can  easily  remove  themselves  and  their 
broods  to  another  place,  when  their  nest  is  threatened  with 
destruction  or  when  weather  conditions  are  unfavourable. 
Espinas  says,  that  ants  owe  their  success  to  their  terrestrial 
habits.  "  When  it  is  necessary  for  an  aerial  animal,  like 

42 


Ants 

the  bee,  to  build  its  nest  it  must  either  secrete  the  substance 
of  its  nest  or  seek  it  at  a  distance,  as  does  the  bee  when 
she  collects  propolis,  or  the  wasp  when  she  gathers  material 
for  her  paper.  The  terrestrial  animal,  like  the  ant,  has  its 
building  materials  close  at  hand,  and  its  architecture  may 
be  as  varied  as  these  materials."  Also  ants  have  few 
enemies,  a  fact  which  caused  the  naturalist  Forel  to 
remark  that  "  the  ant's  most  dangerous  enemies  are  other 
ants,  just  as  man's  most  dangerous  enemies  are  other 
men." 

It  is  curious  to  note  how  ant  societies  resemble  and 
differ  from  those  of  man.  Human  societies  may  be  divided 
into  six  classes  or  stages  —  the  hunting,  pastoral,  agri- 
cultural, commercial,  industrial  and  intellectual ;  and  ants 
have  stages  corresponding  to  the  first  three.  Some  ants 
live  solely  by  the  products  of  the  chase  :  they  are  known  as 
driver  and  legionary  ants ;  some  keep  domestic  animals, 
in  the  shape  of  plant  lice,  scale  insects  and  caterpillars, 
these  belong  to  the  pastoral  class ;  the  agricultural  class 
is  represented  by  the  harvesting-ants,  which  collect,  store 
•  and,  it  is  said,  plant  seeds.]  Against  these  resemblances 
may  be  set  the  fact  that  ant  societies  are  almost  solely 
composed  of  females,  for  the  males  take  little  part  in  the 
social  life  of  the  colony ;  each  female  is  predestined  to 
a  certain  task,  and  an  ant  community  may  be  likened  to 
a  big  family.  A  very  big  family  in  some  cases,  for  Forel 
has  estimated  that  a  community  may  consist  of  five 
hundred  thousand  individuals.  Such  a  community  re- , 
sembles  a  perfect  republic  where  each  works  for  the  good 
of  the  whole  community,  each  having  her  appointed  work, 
labouring  constantly  for  the  good  of  all  and  each  ready  to 
sacrifice  herself  for  the  good  of  all.  A  veritable  insect 
Utopia. 

Before  we  turn  our  attention  to  some  of  the  more 
extraordinary  ant  colonies  let  us  examine  the  typical 
life  history  of  these  insects.  An  ant's  nest  may  be  built 
above  or  below  ground  ;  in  hollows  in  trees  ;  in  plant  galls  ; 

43 


Ants 

in  decaying  wood — in  fact,  no  situation  may  be  said  to  be 
wholly  unsuitable  for  a  nest  if  the  right  kind  of  ant  is  at 
hand  to  make  use  of  it.  With  few  exceptions,  the  general 
life  of  one  community  is  very  similar  to  that  of  any  other. 
At  the  end  of  her  nuptial  flight,  the  mated  queen  returns 
to  her  hiding-place,  below  ground  if  she  belongs  to  an 
earth-frequenting  kind,  and  her  first  care  is  to  rid  herself 
of  her  wings,  which  henceforth  will  be  useless  to  her.  The 
offending  encumbrances  are  either  pulled  off  with  her  legs 
and  jaws,  or  rubbed  against  stones,  grass  blades  and  the 
like,  till  they  break  away.  Having  performed  this  surgical 
operation,  which,  in  reality,  is  not  very  difficult,  for  the 
wings  easily  break  away  after  their  one  flight,  the  queen, 
whose  body  is  well  stored  with  fat,  proceeds  to  found  her 
colony  by  herself.  She  makes  a  little  burrow  in  the  soil 
and  enlarges  the  blind  end  into  a  chamber  and,  having 
done  so,  she  closes  the  entrance.  This  engineering  feat 
costs  the  ant  much  tribulation ;  she  wears  away  her  jaws, 
with  which  she  excavates  the  soil,  rubs  the  hairs  from 
her  body  and,  at  length,  with  scratched  and  bruised 
armour,  she  settles  down  unaccompanied  and  lonely,  in 
her  little  chamber  for  days,  weeks  or  even  months,  till 
her  eggs  are  ready  to  be  laid. 

At  length  the  eggs  are  deposited  in  a  little  packet,  and 
from  them  very  small  grubs  emerge.  These  new-comers 
are  nourished  by  the  saliva  of  the  queen,  which,  in  turn, 
is  derived  from  the  fat  stored  in  her  body,  for  she  takes 
no  food  during  the  whole  of  the  time  she  is  founding  her 
colony.  They  grow  slowly  and  little,  but,  mishaps  aside, 
they  eventually  develop  into  undersized  workers,  whose 
first  care  is  to  break  a  way  into  the  outer  air  and  proceed 
with  the  enlargement  of  the  nest.  But  let  us  first  of  all 
follow  the  fortunes  of  the  queen.  The  newly  hatched 
workers  bring  her  food,  but  she  takes  little  interest  in  her 
progeny ;  at  their  birth  she  becomes  excessively  timid 
and  shuns  the  light,  her  sole  care  is  to  produce  more  and 
more,eggs.  She  laps  the  liquid  food  which  her  attendants 

44 


Ants 

bring  her  and  regains  some  of  her  original  plumpness,  but 
she  remains  all  the  time,  perhaps  for  fifteen  years,  a  lonely, 
self-sacrificing,  egg-laying  machine. 

In  an  incredibly  short  time  the  community  is  in  full 
swing.  The  ill-formed  original  workers  are  replaced  by 
more  lusty  individuals,  as  the  eggs,  so  freely  provided 
by  the  queen,  mature.  These  eggs  are  elongate  and 
yellowish ;  they  are  always  laid  in  clusters  and  not  in 
special  cells,  as  with  the  social  bees  and  wasps.  The 
greatest  care  is  bestowed  upon  them  by  the  workers. 
Almost  hourly  they  lick  their  charges,  covering  them 
with  saliva,  which  causes  them  to  stick  together  in  batches 
and  also  acts  as  an  antiseptic,  preventing  the  growth  of 
harmful  moulds.  The  drying  of  the  eggs  and  their  con- 
sequent falling  away  into  separate  units  would  be  very 
inconvenient  for  the  workers.  Single  eggs  would  entail 
much  labour  in  transport,  batches  of  eggs  are  more  easily 
carried,  and  an  accident  to  the  nest  might  render  necessary 
their  rapid  removal  to  a  place  of  safety. 

Also,  as  the  temperature  and  moisture  of  the  nest  varies 
from  hour  to  hour,  so  do  the  workers  carry  the  eggs  from 
chamber  to  chamber  in  the  nest  in  an  endeavour  to  keep 
the  conditions  equable.  As  they  are  held  together  by 
saliva  it  is  possible  to  move  several  at  a  time.  The  grubs 
which  hatch  from  the  later  eggs  of  the  queen  or  queens — 
each  nest  may  contain  as  many  as  thirty  of  these  royal 
insects — are  just  as  helpless  as  were  their  elder  brothers 
and  sisters.  They  are  translucent,  soft-bodied,  blind, 
legless,  helpless  little  creatures,  in  shape  like  a  miniature 
"  crook-necked  "  gourd.  Sometimes  they  are  hairless  but 
more  often  hairy,  to  their  advantage.  A  hairy  coat  raises 
their  bodies  a  little  way  from  the  ground  and  so  preserves 
them  from  damp,  just  as  one  raises  a  wooden  hut  from 
the  ground  to  allow  a  current  of  air  to  pass  beneath.  Such 
a  coat  acts  as  a  protection  against  their  elder  sisters  who 
may  feel  hungry,  for  ants  are  cannibals  on  occasion ;  it 
causes  them  to  stick  together  in  groups,  an  advantage  in 

45 


Ants 

transport,  as  we  have  seen  in  the  case  of  the  eggs.  Some 
grubs  have  hooked  hairs,  and  these  are  very  useful,  for 
by  their  means  the  workers  simply  hang  the  youngsters 
to  the  wall  of  the  nest  out  of  harm's  way,  much  as  an 
Indian  squaw  hangs  her  baby  to  her  tent.  - 

Now  the  grubs  are  so  helpless  that  they  give  their 
nurses  no  end  of  trouble.  In  the  first  place,  they  are 
quite  unable  to  feed  themselves,  so  their  nurses  supply 
them  with  nourishment  from  their  own  mouths,  which 
may  consist  of  partly  digested  food,  masticated  insects 
caught  by  the  workers,  portions  of  seeds  or  other  vegetable 
matter.  In  some  communities,  the  soldier  ants,  which 
we  shall  speak  of  later,  are  appointed  carvers  and  cut  up 
tough-skinned  insects  for  the  grubs  ;  in  other  communities 
the  soldiers  act  as  official  nut-crackers  to  the  colony. 
For  a  month  or  more  the  nursing  continues,  and  during 
all  this  time  the  nurses  are  kept  very  busy.  In  order 
that  the  grubs  may  develop  into  healthy,  well-grown  ants 
it  is  necessary  that  during  their  various  stages  of  growth 
they  should  be  surrounded  with  an  atmosphere  of  constant 
temperature  and  humidity ;  they  require  different  condi- 
tions at  different  stages  of  development  To  bring  this 
about  the  nurses  remove  their  charges  from  place  to 
place  within  the  nest.  They  are  arranged  in  piles 
according  to  their  ages  :  this  alone  is  a  heavy  task  for  the 
nurses.  In  addition,  the  grubs  are  constantly  cleaned 
by  licking :  particles  of  soil  must  not  be  allowed  to  stick 
to  their  delicate  bodies.  The  nurses'  saliva  also  acts  as 
a  waterproof  and  an  antiseptic  covering  for  the  grubs.  A 
further  duty  consists  in  protecting  the  youngsters  from 
light  and  enemies.  Usually  they  are  stored  in  the 
darkest  recesses  of  the  nest ;  however,  the  nurses  of  one 
Texan  species  are  in  the  habit  of  bringing  their  charges 
to  the  surface  after  nightfall,  and  slowly  promenading  up 
and  down  with  them,  after  the  manner  of  human  beings. 

At  length  the  grubs  reach  the  stage  at  which  it  is 
necessary  to  change  into  chrysalids.  Here  again  the 


Ants 

nurses  lend  their  aid.  The  grub  cannot  spin  its  cocoon 
without  some  points  of  attachment  for  its  silk,  so  what 
do  the  nurses  do  ?  They  embed  the  grubs  in  the  earth 
till  they  have  spun  their  silken  cocoons ;  then,  the 
operation  complete,  they  dig  them  up  and  store  them  in 
their  different  piles,  according  to  age,  as  they  did  with 
the  grub.  These  cocoons  are  sold  under  the  misleading 
name  of  ants'  eggs,  and  used,  amongst  other  things,  for 
feeding  gold-fish.  In  the  cocoon  wonderful  changes  take 
place  as  the  ant  grub  transforms  into  the  adult  insect. 
When  these  changes  are  almost  complete  the  nurses  once 
more  come  to  the  rescue.  Splitting  up  the  silken  envelope, 
they  remove  the  helpless  half-formed  ant  from  within. 

In  this  stage  the  creature  is  known  as  a  callow,  and  it 
is  in  very  fact  unfledged.  The  callow  is  helpless,  its  legs, 
feelers  and  wings,  if  it  be  a  winged  form,  are  closely  folded 
to  its  body ;  all  these  organs  are  carefully  cleaned,  licked 
dry  and  unfolded  by  the  diligent  nurses.  In  short,  they 
literally  set  the  callow  on  its  feet.  When  the  time  arrives 
for  the  formation  of  a  new  colony,  and  the  consequent 
mating  of  the  queens,  a  curious  thing  happens. 

It  is  well  known  that  mating  with  near  relatives  is  bad 
for  any  animals.  How  is  this  prevented  by  the  ants  ? 
By  a  remarkable  dispensation,  the  nuptial  flights  of  the 
members  of  all  the  adjoining  nests  take  place  at  precisely 
the  same  moment,  so  that  there  is  every  chance  of  a  queen 
mating  with  a  male  from  another  nest.  Just  before  the 
flight  the  workers  may  often  be  observed  holding  back 
the  impatient  males  and  queens  till  the  proper  time 
arrives.  In  these  nuptial  flights  there  are  always  hundreds 
of  queens,  and  in  this  respect  they  differ  widely  from  a 
swarm  of  bees,  where  one  queen  only  is  concerned.  This, 
in  short,  is  the  life  story  of  a  typical  ant  community. 

The  structure  of  the  nests,  the  number  of  castes — that 
is  to  say,  individuals  modified  in  some  special  manner  for 
the  accomplishment  of  definite  duties — the  habits  of  the 
workers  differ  widely  in  the  various  species.  The  nests 

47 


Ants 

are  so  varied  that  we  can  only  mention  a  few  of  the  more 
interesting ;  the  castes  so  numerous  that  only  those  with 
which  we  are  immediately  concerned  will  be  described  ; 
the  ways  of  the  workers — well,  volumes  have  been  filled 
with  their  doings.  In  certain  respects  all  ants  are  alike. 
They  are  all  exceedingly  cleanly.  It  is  hardly  surprising 
that  large  quantities  of  waste  matter,  excrement,  cast 
skins  and  the  like,  should  be  found  in  the  nests,  or  would 
be  were  the  ants  not  so  tidy.  Every  scrap  of  rubbish  is 
carefully  removed  by  the  workers,  either  to  some  place 
outside  the  nest  or  to  a  deserted  gallery  within  it.  Veri- 
table little  kitchen  middens  are  these  rubbish-heaps. 
Any  evil-smelling  substance  which  finds  its  way  into  the 
nest  and  cannot  be  removed  is  dealt  with  equally  promptly. 
The  ants  simply  throw  little  pellets  of  earth  upon  the 
offending  object  till  it  is  buried. 

All  ants,  with  the  exception  of  some  flesh-eating 
species,  have  a  common  failing — they  are  all  partial  to 
sweet  things.  In  this  connection  there  is  nothing  more 
remarkable  in  the  ant  world  than  the  "  honey  pots  "  of  a 
small  American  ant.  The  nest  of  this  ant  is  never  very 
large,  and  is  always  situated  in  the  vicinity  of  shin  oak 
thickets,  for  a  reason  which  will  be  apparent  in  a  moment. 
Externally,  the  home  of  the  honey-ant  is  a  low,  gravel- 
covered  mound,  about  six  inches  in  diameter  by  three 
inches  in  height.  Internally,  it  contains  certain  special 
chambers  with  dome-shaped  roofs,  to  the  rough  surfaces 
of  which  certain  peculiarly  contrived  individuals  cling. 

The  ordinary  workers  display  little  activity  by  day, 
but  at  night  they  issue  from  their  nests  in  thousands  and 
ascend  the  oak-trees.  Now  the  shin  oak  is  especially 
liable  to  the  attacks  of  gall  insects,  and  there  is  a  certain 
gall  which  gives  off  a  sugary  substance  called  honey-dew. 
It  is  for  the  honey  on  these  galls,  together  with  the  sweet 
exudations  of  green-fly  and  scale  insects  living  on  the 
oaks,  that  the  nightly  forays  of  the  ants  are  made.  The 
worker  ants  lick  up  all  the  honey-dew  they  can  find  and 


A   RIDE   ON    BEETLE-BACK,    AND    A   LIVING   SWEET-SHOP. 

Enjoyment  seems  to  be  the  only  motive  the  fly  has  for  riding  on  the  back  of  the  African  beetle 
shown  in  the  upper  part  of  this  illustration.  Beneath  is  shown  the  well  named  honey-pot 
ant  with  its  distended  body  full  of  honey,  which  it  gives  away  to  any  hungry  working  ant. 


Ants 

return  to  the  nest  fully  laden.  Once  in  their  home,  they 
lose  no  time  in  seeking  out  the  individuals  waiting  for 
them  in  the  vaulted  chambers.  The  mouths  of  forager 
and  prospective  honey-pot  are  closely  applied,  the  honey- 
dew  is  regurgitated  by  the  worker  and  absorbed  by  its 
fellow  till  it  becomes  so  distended  as  to  resemble  a  six- 
legged  currant.  It  is  changed  into  a  positive  living 
storehouse,  filled  with  grape  sugar.  So  utterly  incapable 
of  movement  does  it  become,  by  reason  of  its  sugary 
burden,  that,  should  it  fall  by  accident  from  its  vaulted 
roof,  it  will  lie,  with  its  legs  in  the  air,  a  helpless  mass  of 
ant  anatomy. 

Why,  it  may  be  asked,  should  the  worker  ants  display 
such  solicitude  for  their  seemingly  lazy  relatives  ?  Be 
assured  there  is  a  reason  for  their  behaviour.  Bad  times 
may  fall  upon  the  community,  either  through  drought  or 
the  natural  sequence  of  the  seasons.  Then,  at  anyrate, 
the  honey-ants  become  objects  of  prime  importance. 
Hungry  workers  will  stroke  them  gently  with  their  feelers 
and,  pleased  with  such  unwonted  attention,  the  "  honey 
pots  "  disgorge  their  store  of  grape  sugar,  drop  by  drop, 
to  the  evident  delight  of  the  workers.  As  Dr  Wheeler 
has  remarked  :  "  Those  who  are  wont  to  extol  the  fervid 
industry  and  extraordinary  feats  of  muscular  endurance 
in  ants  should  not  overlook  the  beatific  patience  and  self- 
sacrifice  displayed  by  the  replete  ant  as  it  hangs  from  the 
rafters  of  its  nest,  month  in,  month  out — perhaps  for 
years — a  reservoir  of  temperamental  as  well  as  liquid 
sweetness." 

The  cultivation  of  mushrooms  might  be  thought  to  be 
beyond  the  powers  of  even  the  intelligent  ant  ;  well,  ants 
do  not  cultivate  the  mushrooms  we  are  accustomed  to 
eat,  but  they  come  very  near  to  it.  They  grow  fungi  of 
various  kinds  in  their  underground  nests.  These  fungus- 
growing  ants  all  dwell  in  tropical  America,  and  very 
destructive  they  are,  for  they  have  a  pernicious  habit  of 
removing  leaves  from  trees  and  carrying  them  to  their 
D  49 


Ants 

nests.  Why  they  do  so  remained  a  mystery  for  a  long 
time.  Some  naturalists  concluded  that  they  used  the 
leaves  as  food,  others  that  they  lined  their  nests  with 
them ;  the  real  use,  however,  of  this  vegetable  matter  is 
to  act  as  a  manure  on  which  their  much-loved  fungus 
will  grow. 

The  nests  of  these  ants  consist  of  numerous  rounded, 
underground  chambers,  about  as  large  as  a  man's  head, 
connected  together  by  tunnels.  In  these  chambers  there 
is  stored  a  speckled,  brown,  spongy  mass  of  vegetable 
matter,  the  prepared  leaves,  interwoven  with  a  minute 
white  fungus.  Other  vegetable  matter,  including  the 
white  rind  of  oranges,  is  used  for  the  same  purpose.  An 
astonishing  thing  about  these  ants  is  the  care  they  take 
over  the  ventilation  of  their  fungus  beds.  Numerous 
tunnels  connect  the  chambers  with  the  air.  These  are 
constantly  opened,  and  as  often  closed,  to  keep  up  a 
regular  temperature.  Certain  of  the  workers  are  told  off 
to  weed  these  fungus  gardens,  and  the  task  is  no  light 
one,  because  the  vegetable  manure  is  a  favourable  medium 
for  the  growth  of  many  kinds  of  fungi,  but  the  ants  only 
permit  one  kind  to  flourish. 

When  a  move  is  made  to  a  fresh  nest,  portions  of  the 
fungus  are  taken  to  the  new  home  by  the  workers  so  that 
the  food  supply  may  remain  unimpaired,  but  stranger 
still  is  the  proceeding  when  the  queen  sets  forth  to  start 
a  new  colony.  When  she  leaves  her  nest  for  the  marriage 
flight  she  takes  with  her  the  remains  of  her  last  meal, 
consisting  of  her  favoured  fungus.  After  mating,  she 
digs  a  hole  in  the  ground,  closes  its  opening  to  the  outside 
world  and  sets  to  work  to  found  a  colony.  She  spits  out 
the  pellet  of  fungus  threads  and  cultivates  it,  while  she 
is  at  the  same  time  laying  eggs  and  rearing  the  larvae. 
Wonder  upon  wonder  confronts  us  in  the  study  of  these 
marvellous  insects.  How  does  the  solitary,  fully  occupied 
queen  gather  leaves  on  which  to  grow  her  little  store  of 
fungus?  She  uses  no  leaves,  but  simply  crushes  up  a  few 


Ants 

of  her  first  formed  eggs  in  her  mouth,  and  on  this  medium 
the  fungus  flourishes  exceedingly. 

As  the  young  ants  develop,  the  queen  must  needs  tend 
her  fungus  garden  as  well  as  her  offspring,  for  the  fungus 
is  a  necessary  food  for  the  young  ants.  From  time  to 
time  the  queen  tears  off  a  little  of  the  fungus  growth  in 
her  mouth  and  holds  it  to  the  tip  of  her  body.  At  the 
same  time  she  gives  forth  a  small  drop  of  brownish  liquid, 
which  is  rapidly  absorbed  by  the  fungus.  Then  she 
inserts  the  little  tuft  amongst  the  main  fungus  growth 
and  puts  it  into  place  with  her  fore-feet.  This  operation 
is  repeated  once  or  twice  an  hour,  and  the  fungus  thrives 
on  its  manuring.  Sometimes  a  queen  will  find  herself 
without  a  fungus  garden,  then  another  queen  will  present 
her  with  sufficient  of  the  growth  to  start  horticultural 
operations,  to  her  evident  delight. 

The  first  grubs  to  hatch  do  not  feed  on  the  fungus,  as 
might  be  expected,  but  are  fed  by  their  mother  on  her 
own  eggs.  As  soon  as  they  are  grown  into  fully  fledged 
workers  they  enlarge  the  nest  by  making  other  chambers  ; 
they  bring  pieces  of  leaves,  cut  them  into  minute  wads 
and  insert  them  in  the  fungus  garden.  The  manuring  of 
the  garden  by  the  queen  ceases,  and  she  degenerates  into 
a  sluggish  egg-laying  machine. 

From  the  fungus-growing  to  the  harvesting-ants  is  not 
a  very  far  cry.  Harvesters  are  found  in  practically  all  the 
warmer  parts  of  the  earth,  and  wherever  they  live  their 
habits  are  very  similar.  They  usually  scour  the  country 
in  droves,  gathering  seeds  of  all  sorts  as  they  go  and 
returning  with  them  to  their  underground  nests,  where 
they  are  stored  in  special  chambers  or  granaries,  to  be 
used  as  food  for  the  young  and  for  themselves.  More 
extraordinary  than  their  proven  habits  are  the  stories  that 
have  been  woven  round  their  doings.  They  are  said  to 
bite  off  the  young  growing  points  from  the  seeds  in  order 
to  prevent  them  from  germinating.  So  far  from  this  being 
the  truth,  the  stored  seeds  often  germinate  within  the 


Ants 

granaries  and  are  then  promptly  thrown  out  by  the 
tenants.  True,  the  ants  take  the  skins  from  all  the  seeds 
before  storing  and  carry  the  husks  outside  their  nests,  but 
nipping  off  the  growing  points — never  ! 

Another  fable  of  the  harvesters  is  that  they  cultivate 
certain  plants  on  the  mounds  over  their  nests,  for  the 
sake  of  their  seeds.  Careful  observation  has  shown  that 
these  so-called  cultivated  plants  are  simply  throw-outs 
from  their  nests.  As  one  writer  remarked  :  "  To  say  that 
the  ant,  like  a  provident  farmer,  sows  this  cereal  and 
guards  and  weeds  it  for  the  sake  of  garnering  its  grain,  is 
as  absurd  as  to  say  that  the  family  cook  is  planting  and 
maintaining  an  orchard  when  some  of  the  peach  stones, 
which  she  has  carelessly  thrown  into  the  backyard  with 
the  other  kitchen  refuse,  chance  to  grow  into  peach-trees." 

Of  the  other  ants  with  horticultural  proclivities,  the 
most  remarkable  are  those  Brazilian  species  which  build 
"  ant  gardens."  These  gardens  are  composed  of  particles 
of  earth,  carried  into  trees  by  the  ants  and  built  up 
into  spherical  masses  bearing  a  close  resemblance  to  bath 
sponges.  According  to  the  naturalist  who  discovered  them, 
the  seeds  of  certain  plants  are  carried  up  the  trees  by  the 
insects  and  planted  in  the  masses  of  earth,  in  order  that 
their  roots  may  bind  the  soil  particles  more  firmly 
together. 

The  relations  of  ants  to  plants  are  many  and  varied,  and 
form  a  special  study  in  themselves.  Certain  ants  dwell  in 
the  thorns  of  acacia-trees  and  sally  forth  to  protect  their 
living  home  from  the  ravages  of  leaf-cutting  ants  when 
these  destructive  insects  threaten  an  attack.  Another 
species  of  ant  dwells  in  a  large  gall,  with  a  single  opening, 
which  is  plugged,  day  in  day  out,  with  a  living  stopper,  and 
in  this  manner.  Some  of  the  workers  of  this  species  are 
known  as  soldiers  and,  as  always  happens  among  soldier 
ants,  are  possessed  of  very  large  heads  and  powerful  jaws. 
The  galls  in  which  the  ants  take  up  their  abode  resemble 
large,  hollow  oranges.  Entrance  to  and  exit  from  the 

52 


Ants 

cavity  of  the  gall  is  by  means  of  the  single  hole  which 
is  exactly  the  size  of  the  soldier's  head,  and  there  he  sits, 
an  animated  portal  with  a  stopper-shaped  head.  When 
a  worker  wishes  to  go  out  into  the  world  she  strokes  the 
soldier's  back  and  he  moves  aside  to  let  her  pass,  at  once 
plugging  the  hole  with  his  massive  head  when  she  has 
done  so.  On  her  return,  the  worker  strokes  the  soldier's 
head  with  her  feelers  and  he  once  more  steps  aside  to  let 
her  pass. 

In  striking  contrast  to  these  relatively  peaceful  ants  are 
the  slave-making  species.  These  fall  naturally  into  two 
classes  according  to  their  habits.  In  the  first  class  are 
those  slave-makers  which  pillage  neighbouring  nests  and 
carry  off  the  young,  as  much  from  a  spirit  of  conquest  as 
from  necessity,  for  they  are  quite  capable  of  existing,  and 
often  do  exist,  without  slaves.  In  the  second  class  are  the 
ants  which  without  their  slaves  are  quite  incapable  of  look- 
ing after  themselves.  The  European  slave-maker,  of  the 
first  class,  is  a  bloodthirsty  little  beast.  It  lives  under 
stones,  in  logs  of  wood  or  tree  stumps.  By  many  it  is 
considered  the  most  gifted  of  ants,  certainly  it  is  the  most 
war-like,  biting  all  intruders,  and  injecting  acid  from  the 
end  of  its  body  into  the  wound  thus  made.  It  is  capable 
of  making  its  own  nest,  securing  its  own  food  and  rearing 
its  young  without  the  aid  of  slaves.  In  fact  the  enslaved 
species,  when  present,  only  carry  out  the  duties  of  ordinary 
workers. 

The  slave  raids  take  place  in  July  and  August,  after  the 
nuptial  flights  of  the  slave  species  have  taken  place. 
Before  a  raid,  scouts  are  sent  out  all  over  the  neighbour- 
hood to  spy  out  the  land  and  to  discover  favourable  nests 
for  attack.  The  raiders,  on  the  return  of  the  scouts,  leave 
their  nests  in  a  straggling  open  phalanx,  or  even  in  several 
detachments.  They  move  over  the  ground  by  the  most 
direct  route  to  their  objective,  continually  shifting  their 
positions  in  the  ranks  as  they  go,  some  dropping  back 
as  stragglers,  others  coming  forward  to  take  their  places. 

53 


Ants 

When  they  reach  the  nest  to  be  pillaged  they  do  not 
attack  it  at  once,  but  surround  it  and  await  the  arrival  of 
the  other  detachments.  This  is  the  signal  for  the  other  ants 
to  prepare  to  defend  their  home,  or  to  seize  their  young 
and  attempt  to  break  through  the  encircling  cordon.  The 
latter  is  a  false  move,  for  some  of  the  slave-makers  snatch 
away  their  charges,  whilst  the  others  enter  and  pillage  the 
nest.  Soon  the  raiders  return  home  laden  with  grubs  and 
chrysalids,  whilst  the  bereft  ants  slowly  enter  their  pillaged 
home  and  take  up  the  nurture  of  the  few  remaining  young 
or  await  the  appearance  of  future  broods. 

The  Amazons,  of  which  there  are  representatives  in 
Europe  and  America,  never  excavate  their  own  nests  or 
care  for  their  young.  They  are  even  incapable  of  obtain- 
ing their  own  food.  For  the  essentials  of  food,  lodging 
and  education  they  are  wholly  dependent  on  the  slaves 
hatched  from  the  worker  cocoons  they  have  stolen  from 
alien  colonies.  Apart  from  these  slaves  they  are  quite  un- 
able to  live :  they  even  dwell  in  nests  whose  architecture 
throughout  is  that  of  the  slave  species.  While  in  the 
home  nest  they  sit  about  in  stolid  idleness  or  pass  long 
hours  begging  the  slaves  for  food  or  cleaning  themselves 
and  burnishing  their  ruddy  armour,  but  when  outside  the 
nest  on  a  predatory  expedition  they  display  a  dazzling 
courage  and  capacity  for  concerted  action  compared  with 
which  the  raids  of  other  ants  resemble  the  clumsy  efforts 
of  a  lot  of  untrained  militia.  And  what  of  the  slaves? 
Are  they  discontented  with  their  lot?  Apparently  not, 
for  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  happenings  of  the 
Amazonian  raids  is  the  obvious  excitement  of  the  stay-at- 
home  slaves  when  the  raiders  return  with  their  booty. 


54 


CHAPTER    IV 

TERMITES   OR   WHITE   ANTS 

HE  would  be  a  churl  indeed  who  failed  to  admire  the 
work  of  the  early  naturalists  for,  with  primitive  apparatus 
and  often  limited  fields  of  study,  they  greatly  advanced 
our  knowledge  of  the  animal  kingdom.  Nevertheless, 
these  one-time  worthies  were  anything  but  happy  in  their 
choice  of  names.  Misnomers  are  as  common  in  the  insect 
world  as  mites  on  a  seasoned  cheese.  The  insects  known 
as  green,  dragon  or  may  flies  respectively  are  not  flies  at 
all,  and  there  are  many  still  more  flagrant  misnomers. 
The  common  black  beetle  is  neither  black  nor  a  beetle ; 
white  ants  are  neither  white  nor  are  they  ants.  How 
white  ants  earned  their  name  we  do  not  know  ;  probably 
the  fact  that  they  are  social  insects,  living  in  colonies 
after  the  manner  of  true  ants,  may  have  something 
to  do  with  it.  At  anyrate,  they  are  not  related  to 
the  true  ants,  but  to  the  dragon  and  may  flies.  To 
scientists,  sticklers  all  for  accuracy,  white  ants  are 
known  as  termites,  and  that  is  the  name  we  will  use, 
for  it  has  the  merit  of  brevity,  in  addition  to  being 
more  correct. 

At  the  risk  of  labouring  the  question  of  the  non- 
relationship  of  ants  to  termites,  we  will  mention  one 
important  point  of  difference.  Our  readers  will  remember 
that  we  mentioned  the  great  care  bestowed  by  ants  on 
their  helpless,  footless  grubs.  Termites,  on  the  other 
hand,  do  not  pass  through  all  the  changes  usual  to  insects  ; 
they  skip  some  of  the  stages  and,  instead  of  being  grubs, 
unable  to  fend  for  themselves,  the  young  ones  are  as 
active  as  their  parents,  in  fact  they  are  miniatures  of  the 
adults.  Each  termite  community  is  made  up  of  winged 

55 


Termites  or  White  Ants 

and  wingless  individuals  and  of  several  castes.  To  each 
caste  a  special  duty  is  assigned. 

Let  us  examine  one  of  the  giant  termite  mounds  of 
tropical  Africa,  Australia,  Asia  or  America  and  learn  for 
ourselves  the  marvellous  work  which  is  carried  on  therein, 
hidden  from  the  outside  world.  It  is  in  the  Tropics  that 
these  destructive  insects  attain  their  greatest  development, 
both  in  individual  dimensions  and  in  the  extent  of  their 
colonies.  Some  of  the  African  termite  mounds,  exceeding 
twenty  feet  in  height  and  measuring  over  a  hundred  feet 
in  circumference,  house  literally  millions  of  inmates. 
They  are  composed  solely  of  clay  and  the  saliva  of  the 
insects,  and  by  the  aid  of  the  tropical  sun  they  become 
baked  as  hard  as  bricks.  In  outline  they  are  conical  and 
usually  consist  of  one  large  central  cone  surrounded  by  a 
number  of  smaller  cones. 

Although  termites  are  stealthy  workers,  avoiding  the 
light  as  a  cat  shuns  water,  there  is  one  season  of  the  year 
when  they  blacken  the  air  with  their  presence.  This  is 
the  time  of  the  nuptial  flight,  and,  as  it  marks  the 
beginning  of  a  new  community,  it  forms  a  fitting  starting- 
point  for  our  study  of  a  termite  colony.  When  the 
nuptial  flight  takes  place,  thousands  upon  thousands  of 
winged  termites  issue  from  the  dark  recesses  of  their  home 
and  fly  into  the  air.  Their  appearance  is  the  signal  foi- 
all  the  insect-eating  creatures  of  the  neighbourhood  to 
assemble,  for  they  know  by  experience  that  a  time  of 
plenty  is  at  hand.  Birds,  dragon-flies,  robber-flies  and  the 
like  forgather  to  feast  upon  the  luckless  termites.  As  a 
consequence  few  individuals  survive  their  brief  flight, 
taken  with  the  object  of  pairing,  away  from  their  homes. 
Such,  however,  is  the  confusion  caused  by  the  advent  of 
voracious  enemies  that  as  often  as  not  the  insects  making 
their  bridal  flight  are  defeated  of  their  object.  In  any 
event  the  flight  is  never  repeated,  for  although  the  winged 
male  and  female  termites  which  embark  on  this  great 
adventure  are  good  flyers,  when  they  first  come  to  light 

56 


AN  ANT-HILL  BY  DAY 

The  red  wood-ants  cover  their  dwelling  with  a  thatch  of  leaves  and  straw  or  pine-needles,  to  ker p  the'r 
nurseries  and  living-rooms  warm  and  dry.  During  the  daytime  in  line  weather  the  roof  is  crowded  with 
busy  insects,  but  at  nightfall  or  when  it  bsgins  to  rain  the  ants  retire  within  the  nest  and  "shut  up 
house  "  by  closing  all  the  entrances  with  bits  of  stick  and  leaves. 


Termites  or  White  Ants 

their  wings  soon  break  off  short  and  with  the  stumps  that 
are  left  to  them  they  are  quite  incapable  of  rising  from 
the  ground. 

After  the  nuptial  flight  the  winged  females  or  queens 
which  have  escaped  the  attentions  of  their  enemies  seek 
shelter  in  the  ground  and  start  a  new  colony.  This  may 
be  brought  about  by  the  queen  and  her  consort,  who  is 
known  as  a  king,  or,  and  this  is  more  usual,  by  the  com- 
bined efforts  of  the  queen  and  some  individuals  from  the 
old  colony  who  join  forces  with  her. 

Let  us  follow  the  fortunes  of  the  queen  and  her  willing 
workers.  They  are  all  wingless  individuals — ordinary 
workers,  nurses,  soldiers  and,  most  curious  of  all,  nasuti 
or  nosed  ones.  The  first  duty  of  the  ordinary  workers  is 
to  construct  an  earthen  cell  for  their  queen  ;  this,  though 
termed  a  royal  cell,  is  merely  an  oblong  chamber  of  clay, 
constructed  in  such  a  manner  that  it  may  be  enlarged 
from  time  to  time.  It  forms  the  very  centre  of  the  new 
colony  and  in  it  the  queen  spends  the  whole  of  her  exist- 
ence. Her  royal  palace  is  also  her  burial-place.  Her 
whole  life  is  given  to  the  formation  of  a  new  colony,  she 
is  denied  the  excitement  of  the  fights  in  which  the  soldiers 
take  part,  or  the  distraction  of  building  her  home  ;  she 
cannot  even  share  the  work  of  the  nurses  who  tend  her 
progeny.  In  solitude  she  produces  her  eggs  and  then, 
her  work  accomplished,  she  dies,  and  her  arduous  duties 
fall  upon  another  younger  queen. 

Around  the  royal  cell  the  workers  labour  unceasingly, 
day  and  night,  in  the  construction  of  hundreds  of  little 
chambers,  so  that  in  an  incredibly  short  space  of  time  a 
good-sized  structure  is  formed,  with  the  queen's  abode  as 
a  centre.  Surrounding  these  small  cells  there  are  larger 
ones  connected  by  passages,  and  in  course  of  time  the 
home  of  the  termite  colony  is  completed. 

During  the  building  operations  great  changes  have  been 
taking  place  in  the  appearance  of  the  queen.  During  and 
immediately  after  her  nuptial  flight  she  was  a  slim, 

57 


Termites  or   White  Ants 

sprightly  individual.  The  cares  of  motherhood,  however, 
have  wrought  wonders  in  her  form  and  long  before  her 
home  is  completed  she  increases  enormously  in  size.  She 
becomes  so  swollen  with  eggs  that  she  attains  dimensions 
thirty  thousand  times  as  great  as  those  of  the  workers 
who  attend  her,  yet  once  she  was  little  bigger  than  they. 
So  distended  is  the  unfortunate  queen  by  this  time  that 
she  is  quite  unable  to  move  ;  on  this  account  her  internment 
is  not  quite  the  hardship  it  might  appear,  in  fact  it  acts 
as  a  good  and  necessary  protection  for  her.  She  forms  a 
queer-looking  object ;  her  head  and  legs  have  not  grown 
and  in  size  "  bear  about  as  much  relation  to  the  rest  of  her 
body  as  the  tuft  on  his  glengarry  bonnet  bears  to  a  six- 
foot  Highlander."  As  a  consequence  they  appear  hope- 
lessly out  of  place  at  the  end  of  her  soft,  creamy-white, 
pulpy  body,  which  resembles  nothing  so  much  as  a  young 
potato.  Her  attendants  are  kept  constantly  busy  en- 
larging her  cell  to  keep  pace  with  her  rapidly  increasing 
proportions. 

Marvellous  as  is  the  rapid  growth  of  the  queen,  her 
almost  incredible  egg-laying  capacity  is  far  more  extra- 
ordinary. Had  the  fecundity  of  the  queen  termite  not 
been  proved  beyond  doubt  time  and  again,  it  would  be 
unbelievable.  She  produces  eighty  thousand  eggs  a  day 
at  the  average  rate  of  one  a  second,  and  this  not  for  a 
limited  period,  for  she  never  slackens  her  output  till  she 
has  produced  upwards  of  thirty  million  eggs. 

How  comes  it  that  the  whole  tropical  world  is  not 
peopled  by  hosts  of  termites?  They  exist  in  plenty  to 
be  sure,  but  the  remarkable  fertility  of  the  queens  is  in 
line  with  a  well-recognised  law  of  nature  that  the  number 
of  young  produced  by  a  female  at  one  time  is  roughly 
proportional  to  the  risks  the  young  will  run  before  they 
are  grown  up.  Animals  with  few  enemies  produce  but 
one  or  two  young  at  a  time  ;  with  added  risks  the  number 
of  young  increases  and  attains  its  zenith  with  the  termites, 
some  other  insects  and  certain  fishes.  Many  of  these 

58 


Termites  or  White  Ants 

much-persecuted  creatures  would  soon  be  exterminated 
were  their  young  numbered  even  by  hundreds. 

Thousands  upon  thousands  of  individuals  never  survive 
the  nuptial  flight.  Nature  has  wisely  made  provision  for 
this  loss  by  seeing  to  it  that  not  only  shall  the  surviving 
queens  produce  eggs  innumerable,  but  also  by  the  pro- 
vision of  supplementary  queens  in  each  colony.  These 
queens  may  be  likened  to  the  dormant  buds  of  a  tree 
which  only  develop  when  the  active  shoots  fail  to  grow 
or  are  destroyed.  They  are  always  retained  in  the  colony, 
though  their  services  may  never  be  required.  Should  the 
true  queen  die,  however,  they  come  to  the  rescue  and 
carry  on  her  work,  though  to  a  much  more  limited 
extent.  In  reality  they  are  female  workers  which  are  fed 
in  a  special  manner  so  that  they  develop  more  than  their 
worker  sisters,  without,  however,  attaining  to  the  dignity 
of  wings. 

After  this  digression  let  us  turn  our  attention  once 
again  to  the  royal  cell.  Its  walls  are  pierced  with  dozens 
of  holes,  through  which  a  constant  stream  of  workers 
passes  unceasingly.  Those  individuals  entering  the  cell  do 
so  empty-handed,  or,  to  be  more  exact,  empty-mouthed  ; 
the  workers  issuing  from  the  cell  each  bear  a  single  egg 
in  their  mouths.  With  these  they  scurry  off  to  the  small 
cells  surrounding  the  queen's  abode  and  hand  over  their 
burdens  to  the  nurses  in  waiting.  The  duties  of  the 
nurses  are  highly  specialised  ;  they  pack  the  eggs  in  the 
cells  in  such  a  manner  that  they  may  be  freely  ventilated  ; 
they  attend  to  the  temperature  and  moisture  of  the 
surrounding  atmosphere,  by  changing  the  position  of  the 
eggs  from  time  to  time,  by  blocking  up  the  entrances  to 
the  cells  and  by  various  other  devices  they  contrive  to 
keep  the  eggs  under  equable  conditions  till  hatching-time. 
No  incubator  was  ever  tended  more  carefully.  Now  their 
duties  are  almost  at  an  end,  for  the  young  termites  are 
early  able  to  fend  for  themselves. 

During  all  this  time  it  is  hardly  likely  that  the  happy 

59 


Termites  or  White  Ants 

life  of  the  colony  has  continued  undisturbed.  There  are 
many  beasts  who,  with  powerful  claws  and  feet,  tear  down 
the  brick-like  walls  of  the  nest  and  endeavour  to  feed 
upon  the  inmates.  Man  himself  is  not  altogether  guileless, 
for  by  certain  black  races  stewed  termites  are  considered 
a  delicacy.  When  a  breach  is  made  in  the  walls  of  the 
nest  all  the  soldiers  of  the  colony  are  marshalled  for  its 
defence.  The  soldiers,  who  may  easily  be  distinguished 
by  the  enormous  development  of  their  heads  and  jaws, 
and  by  the  fact  that  they  are  quite  five  times  the  size  of 
the  other  workers,  hurry  off  to  the  scene  of  the  trouble, 
followed  at  a  respectful  distance  by  the  nasuti.  Now 
these  termite  warriors  are  absolutely  devoid  of  fear ; 
moreover,  they  are  impelled  by  a  blind  fury  in  their  attacks 
upon  their  enemies.  Blind  it  is  indeed,  for,  having  no 
eyes,  they  snap  right  and  left  with  their  powerful  jaws, 
and  as  often  as  not  their  own  relatives  fall  victims  to  their 
vicious  bites. 

When,  as  frequently  happens,  the  intruder  is  driven  off, 
the  soldiers  retire  and  the  nasuti  set  to  work  to  repair  the 
damaged  home.  The  word  nasuti  means  the  nosed  ones, 
and  they  are  so  called  because  of  the  abnormal  elongation 
of  their  heads  which  terminate  in  a  hollow  nose-like 
structure,  at  the  end  of  which  there  is  a  hole  whence  a 
fluid  passes  at  the  will  of  the  insect.  This  fluid  is  used 
as  a  glue,  to  bind  the  particles  of  clay  together  so  that 
they  will  form  a  solid  mass  with  the  property  of  rapid 
hardening.  When  the  work  of  rebuilding  is  completed 
the  nasuti  assist  the  ordinary  workers  in  their  search  for 
food  and  in  cleaning  out  the  home,  for  a  termite  colony  is 
a  model  of  cleanliness. 

Different'species  of  termites  feed  on  different  substances, 
as  might  have  been  expected,  but  in  certain  respects  all 
termites  agree.  The  soldiers  of  every  colony  are  not 
averse  to  making  a  meal  of  their  brothers,  should  other 
food  become  scarce.  True,  they  usually  attack  sickly 
individuals,  but  healthy  ones  are  not  altogether  immune 

60 


Termites  or  White  Ants 

from  their  attacks.  The  other  workers  bring  small  pieces 
of  vegetable  matter  to  the  nest,  and  these  are  chewed  up 
and  reduced  to  a  pulp  before  being  eaten.  But  food  from 
the  outside  world  forms  only  a  small  portion  of  the  daily 
menu.  Their  own  cast  skins,  regurgitated  food  and  even 
their  excrement  form  the  staple  foods  of  a  termite  colony. 
They  eat  everything  eatable  ;  their  excrement  is  devoured, 
and  greedily  too,  time  and  again,  till  it  contains  no  further 
nourishment.  Small  wonder,  then,  that  their  nests  are 
models  of  cleanliness. 

When  food  is  scarce  and  a  termite  is  hungry  it  will 
stroke  the  back  of  a  fellow-worker  with  its  feelers,  a 
proceeding  which  causes  the  stroked  individual  to  void 
partly  digested  food.  This  the  hungry  termite  seizes  im- 
mediately and  devours  with  gusto.  For  the  young, 
special  food  is  stored  after  being  rolled  into  balls.  This 
food,  which  may  weigh  several  pounds  in  all,  is  stored  in 
special  cells ;  it  is  so  hard  as  to  be  quite  beyond  the 
powers  of  the  young  termites'  jaws.  The  nurses,  accord- 
ingly, come  to  the  rescue  and  moisten  the  food  masses 
with  their  saliva,  thereby  rendering  it  soft  and  palatable. 

Allied  to,  though  not  very  closely  related  to,  the 
termites  are  the  ant-lions.  The  adult  insects  are  of  little 
interest,  except  for  their  beauty;  with  their  elongated 
bodies  and  lustrous,  gauzy  wings,  they  closely  resemble 
dragon-flies.  The  larva,  however,  is  a  totally  different 
being  to  its  active  parents.  It  is  as  ugly  as  they  are 
beautiful,  as  sluggish  as  they  are  nimble.  Though  scarcely 
able  to  drag  its  ill-formed  body  along  the  ground  by  the 
aid  of  its  feeble  legs,  it  lives  upon  the  most  active  insects, 
and  its  mode  of  trapping  them  is  truly  remarkable.  The 
larva  is  a  thick-set,  soft-bodied  little  creature,  armed  with 
a  pair  of  formidable,  grooved  jaws.  Sand  is  absolutely 
essential  to  the  insect's  welfare,  for  in  sand  alone  is  it 
able  to  construct  the  pitfalls  which  it  uses  in  the  capture 
of  its  prey. 

Having  selected  a  suitable  site,  which  is  probably  near 

61 


Termites  or  White   Ants 

at  hand  at  the  time  of  its  birth,  for  the  ant-lion's  eggs  are 
laid  in  sand,  the  larva  walks  round  and  round  in  a  circle 
of  from  one  to  three  inches  in  diameter.  The  result  of 
this  preliminary  manoeuvre  is  the  formation  of  a  shallow 
circular  trench  which  marks  the  outer  boundary  of  its  pit. 
Having  marked  out  a  site,  the  business  of  excavating  the 
pit  is  taken  in  hand,  and  the  method  of  doing  so  is  in- 
genious and  peculiar.  Travelling  in  a  circle,  just  within 
the  boundary  line,  the  ant-lion  larva  scoops  up  sand  with 
its  front  legs  and  piles  it  upon  its  flat  head.  When  the 
load  is  big  enough  the  creature  jerks  its  head  upwards 
and  backwards,  thereby  throwing  its  burden  to  a  con- 
siderable distance.  This  delving  is  continued  till  the 
complete  circle  has  been  traversed,  then  it  excavates 
smaller  and  smaller  circles,  till  finally  the  pit  is  completed, 
and  when  finished  consists  of  a  moderately  deep  conical 
hollow  in  the  sand  with  shelving  sides. 

At  the  centre  of  the  pit  the  ant-lion  larva  keeps  guard, 
not  in  full  view,  as  might  be  expected,  but  quite  buried 
in  the  sand,  except  for  its  long  jaws,  which  project 
upwards,  opened  their  widest  and  ready  for  immediate 
use.  Sooner  or  later,  and  probably  sooner  than  later — 
for  the  Tropics,  where  most  of  the  ant-lions  live,  are 
teeming  with  insect  life — an  unfortunate  insect  will  pass 
over  the  edge  of  the  pit  and  then  its  fate  is  sealed.  The 
sides  of  the  pit  are  built  at  such  an  angle  that  anything, 
finding  itself  upon  them,  immediately  slides  down  to  the 
bottom,  where  the  fateful  jaws  are  in  waiting.  When  once 
the  larva  has  seized  its  prey  it  never  leaves  go  ;  it  holds  on 
with  the  tenacity  of  a  bull-dog,  meanwhile  sucking  the 
life-blood  from  its  victim.  Then,  with  a  backward  jerk 
of  its  head,  it  casts  the  carcass  well  out  of  the  pit  and 
waits  for  more. 

For  the  capture  of  small  insects,  such  as  ants,  no  trap 
could  be  more  cunningly  devised  than  the  ant-lion's  pit  ; 
in  the  case  of  larger  prey  it  is  not  quite  so  effective.  A 
powerful  insect,  struggling  on  the  shifting  sand  slope,  will 

62 


Termites  or  White   Ants 

make  every  effort  to  escape,  and  in  its  struggles  destroys 
the  pit  by  gradually  filling  it  up — at  least  it  would  do  so 
were  it  not  for  the  energy  displayed  by  the  ant-lion,  who, 
by  vigorous  upward  jerks  of  its  head,  throws  out  the  sand 
almost  as  quickly  as  it  falls  to  the  bottom  of  the  pit. 
Few  insects  escape,  for  the  ant-lion,  though  slow  on  its 
feet,  is  a  tireless  digger,  and  will  continue  to  throw  sand 
from  its  trap  till  long  after  its  prospective  victim  is  tired 
and,  through  sheer  exhaustion,  falls  back  on  to  the  ever- 
expectant  jaws.  Frequently  in  its  frantic  efforts  to  clear 
its  pit  the  ant-lion  will  hit  the  struggling  insect  with  one 
of  its  loads  of  sand  and  thereby  bring  it  tumbling  down 
to  be  devoured.  This  little  happening  has  given  rise  to 
the  popular  though  erroneous  story  to  the  effect  that  the 
ant-lion  deliberately  throws  sand  at  its  victim,  with  the 
object  of  knocking  it  off  its  feet.  After  a  struggle  with 
an  insect  large  enough  to  destroy  its  pit  the  fastidious 
owner  promptly  proceeds  to  construct  another  one ;  no 
patched-up  pit  will  suffice.  When  sufficient  food  has 
been  devoured  to  enable  the  larva  to  go  through  its  last 
moult  and  so  complete  its  growth,  it  buries  itself  in  the 
sand  and  changes  into  a  chrysalis  within  a  silken  cocoon 
and  a  short  time  afterwards  emerges  as  a  shimmering, 
winged  insect. 

In  this  country  we  have  no  ant-lions,  but  we  have  some 
very  closely  allied  insects,  in  the  shape  of  the  lacewings, 
or  golden  eyes,  as  they  are  sometimes  called.  They  are 
pale  green,  gauzy-winged  little  creatures,  whilst  their 
larvae,  big-jawed  and  ferocious-looking,  are  deadly  enemies 
of  all  plant  lice.  The  eggs  are  perhaps  better  known 
than  either  the  larvae  or  the  adults.  They  are  always 
attached  to  a  leaf  blade,  preferably  one  which  is  attacked 
by  some  kind  of  green-fly.  Each  egg  is  stalked  and  in  a 
cluster,  as  they  are  laid ;  they  resemble  a  group  of  fairy 
hat-pins.  There  is  a  reason  for  the  stalks.  The  lacewing 
larva  is  a  voracious  customer,  and  he  would  have  no 
scruples  about  eating  the  eggs  containing  his  own  brothers 

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Termites  or  White  Ants 

and  sisters,  but  he  is  frustrated  because  the  succulent 
eggs  are  held  aloft  and  out  of  harm's  way  by  their  stalks. 
The  larvae  are  rendered  more  fearsome  by  reason  of  their 
coats  of  stiff  bristles.  In  some  of  the  foreign  lacewings 
these  bristles  give  place  to  spines,  with  which  a  curious 
habit  of  the  insects  is  connected.  After  a  spiny  larva 
has  made  a  meal  of  an  insect — all  lacewing  larvae  eat 
insects — the  hard,  indigestible  parts  are  not  thrown  away, 
but  are  affixed  to  the  spines  on  the  creature's  back,  so 
that  after  several  meals  every  spine  bears  the  remains  of 
a  victim.  This  may  be  a  case  of  strategy  or  simply  of 
vanity,  the  trophies  being  kept,  as  a  huntsman  keeps  a 
fox's  brush.  In  any  event,  a  prosperous  larva  rapidly 
becomes  so  covered  with  the  remains  of  its  repasts  that 
it  no  longer  resembles  an  insect. 


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CHAPTER  V 

WOODWORKERS 

THE  number  of  wood-boring  insects,  the  carpenters  of  the 
insect  world,  are  legion.  One  or  two  of  them  we  have 
mentioned  already.  The  greatest,  most  industrious,  of  all 
the  carpenters  are  the  termites.  Their  activities  render 
furniture,  as  we  know  it,  useless  in  the  Tropics.  They  work 
furtively,  and  the  results  of  their  work  are  not  apparent 
till  too  late,  and  for  this  reason.  A  host  of  these  marauders 
will  attack  woodwork  during  the  night  to  such  good 
purpose — entering  rafters,  for  example,  at  the  ends  and 
hollowing  out  the  interior  in  an  incredibly  short  time — 
that  eventually  nothing  but  a  thin  outer  shell  of  wood 
remains — a  shell  destined  to  collapse  with  the  slightest 
strain.  The  only  bright  spot  in  this  sordid  story  is  that 
certain  woods,  such  as  teak  and  various  resinous  timbers, 
are  left  severely  alone  by  these  insects. 

In  Britain  we  have  an  excellent  though  destructive 
carpenter  in  the  shape  of  the  goat-moth  larva  ;  so  called 
on  account  of  the  nauseating  goat-like  smell  which  it 
gives  off.  The  female  moth,  a  large,  heavy,  grey-coloured 
creature,  lays  her  eggs  in  cracks  on  the  bark  of  some  tree, 
preferably  a  willow.  She  usually  chooses  a  spot  not  very 
far  from  the  ground.  The  larvae,  when  they  emerge, 
waste  no  time  in  tunnelling  into  the  tree,  through  the 
bark  to  the  wood  beneath.  Needless  to  add  that,  even 
at  this  early  stage  of  their  existence,  they  possess  in- 
ordinately powerful  jaws  and,  in  addition,  they  give  off 
a  fluid  from  their  mouths  which  is  supposed  to  have 
the  power  of  rendering  the  wood  soft  and  more  easily 
worked. 

To  give  some  idea  of  the  life  work  of  these  caterpillars, 

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we  may  mention  that  they  go  on  tunnelling  in  the  tree  for 
three  years,  and  during  this  time  each  one  increases  in 
weight  seventy-two  thousand  times  !  Small  wonder  then 
that  the  goat-moth  is  looked  upon  with  great  disfavour  by 
foresters.  At  the  end  of  three  years  the  larvae  are  fully 
fed  and  are,  withal,  repulsive-looking  creatures.  In  colour, 
they  resemble  boiled  prawns  somewhat ;  in  odour,  the 
rankest  billy-goat,  a  failing  which  renders  them  undesir- 
able as  pets,  but  that  is  not  their  only  drawback.  Their 
wood-boring  propensities  are  liable  to  lead  to  unpleasant 
consequences.  We  once  knew  of  an  enthusiastic  young 
entomologist  who  brought  home  a  couple  of  these  larvae 
in  a  cardboard  box  and  deposited  them  for  the  night  on  the 
family  grand  piano.  In  the  morning  the  box  was  empty 
and  the  caterpillars  were  in  the  piano  ;  furthermore,  they 
had  entered  by  the  shortest  route,  boring  holes  right 
through  the  rosewood  case.  Nothing  short  of  a  tin  box 
will  prevent  these  larvae  from  straying  and  possibly 
damaging  furniture. 

The  fully  fed  larva  constructs  a  very  ingenious  cocoon. 
Inside  it  is  smoothly  and  snugly  lined  with  silk  ;  outside 
it  is  armour-plated  by  means  of  a  mixture  of  wood- 
shavings  and  saliva.  Comfortable  and  warm  within,  yet 
secure  in  his  armoured  cocoon,  the  goat-moth  undergoes 
the  changes  which  convert  him  from  a  fat  and  juicy 
caterpillar  to  a  large  smoke-coloured  moth. 

The  mention  of  furniture  calls  to  mind  another  humble 
carpenter,  in  the  shape  of  the  death-watch,  a  beetle  which 
causes  so-called  worm-eaten  wood.  The  popular  name 
of  this  beetle  may  occasion  some  curiosity.  The  beetle 
maintains  an  intermittent  tattoo  on  the  sides  of  its  burrow 
in  the  wood.  These  taps  were,  and  are  still  in  some  parts 
of  the  country,  thought  to  presage  death  ;  those  who  are 
not  superstitious  will  not  cavil  at  a  more  matter  of  fact,  if 
less  romantic,  explanation  :  they  are  simply  the  calls  of 
the  female  to  her  mate,  the  wireless  telegraphy  of  the 
death-watch.  Five  times  she  taps  rapidly  by  knocking 

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her  head  against  the  end  of  her  burrow  in  the  wood,  and 
awaits  an  answering  tattoo. 

Here  let  us  relate  an  interesting  little  story.  One  of 
these  beetles  was  made  captive  in  a  small  glass-topped 
box,  and  captivity  did  not  impair  its  amorous  nature. 
Five  taps,  on  the  lid  of  the  box,  with  a  pencil  or  a  similar 
object,  elicited  a  similar  number  of  taps  in  reply.  Six 
taps,  or  four,  brought  forth  no  response.  Now  it  has  been 
alleged  that  the  taps  are  not  actually  heard  by  the  beetles, 
but  are  simply  communicated  from  one  to  the  other  by 
the  vibrations  of  the  wood  when  it  is  tapped.  The  little 
box,  therefore,  with  its  inmate,  was  suspended  by  a  string 
to  the  ceiling.  Taps  on  a  table  below  were  still  answered 
by  the  beetle  in  its  aerial  prison,  thus  settling  once  and 
for  all  the  question  of  its  hearing  powers.  The  last  per- 
formance of  this  beetle  was  a  triumph.  Its  performance 
was  exhibited  before  the  members  of  a  well-known  society. 
It  gave  a  stirring  performance,  which  raised  the  audience 
to  a  high  pitch  of  excitement — the  members  were  all 
entomologists  and  therefore  easily  amused — applause 
greeted  the  beetle's  efforts,  at  the  end  of  its  "  turn,"  but 
the  beetle,  not  to  be  outdone,  answered  the  applause  with 
a  series  of  taps,  a  feat  which  wellnigh  overcame  the  afore- 
said entomologists. 

But  we  have  digressed.  The  death-watch  bores  into 
timber,  our  most  valued  furniture  for  choice,  making  little 
holes  therein  resembling  shot  holes.  When  within  the 
wood,  boring  operations  are  carried  out  with  considerable 
energy,  and  the  female  deposits  her  eggs  at  the  end  of  each 
tunnel.  The  white  grubs  which  hatch  from  these  eggs  are 
armed  with  strong  jaws,  enabling  them  also  to  carry  on 
the  woodwork  of  their  parents.  Within  the  burrows  the 
chrysalids  are  formed,  and  the  following  season  a  new 
generation  of  beetles  arises  to  carry  on  the  work  of 
destruction  and  scare  some  country  bumpkins  with  their 
taps. 

Certain  wood-boring  beetles,  popularly  termed  Ambrosia 

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beetles,  not  only  display  considerable  ingenuity  in  the 
construction  of  their  homes  but  are  possessed  of  maternal 
instincts  foreign  to  most  insects.  In  the  spring,  the 
season  when  the  thoughts  of  most  animals  are  turned 
towards  parental  duties,  the  mother  Ambrosia  beetles  seek 
out  a  suitable  tree  for  their  operations.  Into  this  tree 
they  bore  a  horizontal  tunnel,  which  in  a  short  distance  is 
diverted  vertically.  The  sawdust  formed  in  the  tunnelling 
operations  is  for  the  most  part  pushed  backwards  through 
the  tunnel,  and  trickles  in  a  fine  stream  down  the  tree 
trunk — a  certain  indication  that  work  is  going  on  within. 

On  the  completion  of  the  first  vertical  tunnel  the  mother 
beetle  deposits  a  group  of  six  eggs  at  its  extremity  and 
closes  the  entrance  with  a  little  plug  of  damp  sawdust ; 
more  vertical  tunnels  are  made,  and  eggs  are  deposited 
therein,  and  they  are  plugged  in  exactly  the  same  manner. 
Often  the  mother  beetle  will  make  nearly  fifty  of  these 
tunnels,  with  the  result  that  those  first  formed  contain 
larvae  long  before  she  has  finished  her  labours,  for  the 
eggs  hatch  in  a  few  days.  Now  these  larvae,  unlike  those 
of  the  death-watch,  have  very  feeble  jaws,  quite  incapable 
of  biting  wood. 

A  most  wonderful  Providence  watches  over  the 
youngsters,  and  in  this  manner.  We  mentioned  that  at 
the  entrance  to  every  side  tunnel  the  mother  beetle  placed 
a  plug  of  damp  sawdust ;  these  plugs  are  so  many  doors 
to  so  many  rooms,  all  opening  into  a  long  passage,  the 
horizontal  tunnel.  As  the  operations  of  boring  and  egg- 
laying  are  going  on,  the  long  passage,  into  which  the  side 
doors  open,  becomes  filled  with  a  dark  coloured  fungus,  a 
fungus  upon  which  the  larval  beetles  feed.  As  soon  as  a 
batch  of  eggs  hatches,  the  mother  beetle  removes  the  plug 
of  sawdust,  opens  the  door  of  the  side  chamber,  and  the 
inmates  are  free  to  browse  upon  their  fungus  fare. 

How  does  the  fungus  find  its  way  into  the  tunnel  ?  It 
is  placed  there  by  the  far-seeing  mother  beetle.  As  the 
work  of  tunnelling  proceeds,  sap  oozes  from  the  sides  of 

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the  chambers ;  the  sap  forms  excellent  material  on  which 
to  grow  the  fungus,  so  the  mother  beetle  brings  to  her 
home  a  few  fungus  spores  (spores  of  fungi  may  be  com- 
pared to  seeds  of  flowering  plants)  and  places  them  on 
the  sappy  wood,  with  the  result  that  in  an  incredibly 
short  time  there  is  a  growth  ample  for  all  her  needs. 
When  the  grubs  are  fully  fed  they  change  into  chrysalids 
and,  eventually,  into  adult  beetles  in  the  tunnels,  and 
there  they  spend  the  winter.  In  the  following  spring 
they  mate,  the  future  mothers  swallow  some  of  the  fungus 
spores  and  seek  fresh  spots  for  their  woodworking  opera- 
tions. The  skins  of  the  spores  are  exceedingly  tough,  and 
should  the  need  arise  they  will  remain  in  the  gizzard  of 
the  Ambrosia  beetle  for  nearly  three  months  without 
suffering  any  damage. 

The  Cigarette  beetle  is  a  little  insect  of  fastidious  tastes  ; 
though  not  strictly  speaking  a  wood-borer,  he  may  safely 
be  included  here.  Though  diminutive,  he  is  capable  of 
doing  considerable  damage.  The  mother  beetle  lays  her 
eggs,  one  at  a  time,  either  on  the  tobacco  leaf  or  just 
within  the  open  end  of  a  cigar  or  cigarette,  but  she  does 
not  do  so  at  haphazard,  for  she  is  something  of  a  con- 
noisseur ;  she  selects  Glares  rather  than  Maduras,  Turkish 
tobacco  by  preference  to  shag.  The  larvae  hatch  in  about 
a  week,  and  tunnel  in  all  directions,  rendering  the  tobacco 
useless.  Cigars  and  cigarettes  become  so  riddled  with 
holes  that  they  will  not  "  draw." 

The  little  beetle  is,  however,  catholic  in  its  tastes  and, 
failing  tobacco,  will  bore  into  and  breed  in  or  amongst 
raisins,  belladonna,  ginger,  rice,  dried  fish,  turmeric, 
rhubarb,  cayenne  pepper,  books,  canned  goods,  cartridge 
wads,  liquorice,  saffron  and  in  pyrethrum  powders  strong 
enough  to  kill  any  other  insect.  Certain  moth  larvae  will 
bore  and  tunnel  into  wine  corks  to  such  an  extent  that 
the  wine  either  runs  out  of  the  bottles  in  which  the  corks 
are  situate  or  turns  sour. 

Hosts  of  beetle  and  moth  larvae  either  bore  into  biscuits, 

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cereals  or  other  seeds,  or  at  least  so  damage  them  that 
they  are  rendered  unfit  for  consumption.  But  let  us  return 
to  the  true  insect  carpenters. 

A  relative  of  the  goat-moth,  one  of  our  most  beautiful 
British  insects,  the  wood-leopard  moth  is  in  its  larvae' 
stage  an  industrious  carpenter.  A  handsome  cream- 
coloured  moth,  decorated  with  spots  and  splashes  of  steel- 
blue,  it  is  a  common  object  of  our  country-side.  The 
female  la,ys  her  eggs  on  or  near  the  tips  of  the  small 
branches  of  some  favoured  tree — the  apple  is  commonly 
selected — and  the  caterpillars,  when  they  emerge,  bore 
into  the  centres  of  the  twigs  and  eat  away  the  pith.  They 
are  long-lived  and  eat  the  whole  time,  with  the  result  that 
the  twigs  they  have  favoured  with  their  attentions  wither 
and  die.  Like  its  cousin  the  goat-moth,  this  insect  makes 
for  itself  a  silk-lined  armoured  cocoon. 

The  clearwing-moths,  which  mimic  wasps  and  hornets, 
have  similar  habits,  but  they  display  an  amount  of 
ingenuity  which  is  lacking  in  the  wood-leopard  moth. 
Their  larvae  bore  into  the  pith  of  certain  trees,  but  when 
they  are  fully  fed,  instead  of  building  reinforced  cocoons, 
they  work  their  way  almost  to  the  outside  of  the  branch 
in  which  they  have  lived,  just  before  they  change  into 
chrysalids.  So  nearly  do  they  travel  to  the  exterior  that 
but  the  thinnest  tissue  of  wood  separates  them  from  the 
air.  Settling  down  with  their  heads  towards  the  outside 
of  the  tree,  they  change  into  chrysalids,  which  are  armed 
with  backwardly  directed  spines.  When  the  moths  are 
about  to  emerge,  the  chrysalids,  by  means  of  these  spines, 
push  their  way  outwards,  break  the  thin  shell  of  wood, 
and  pass  half-way  out  of  the  end  of  their  burrow.  When 
the  moths  escape,  the  empty  chrysalid  cases  project  from 
the  tree. 

Concerning  these  larvae,  an  entomologist  once  wrote : 
"  We  observed  about  a  dozen  of  them  during  this  summer, 
in  the  trunk  of  a  poplar,  one  side  of  which  had  been 
stripped  of  its  bark.  It  was  this  portion  of  the  trunk 

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which  all  the  caterpillars  selected  for  their  final  retreat, 
not  one  being  observed  where  the  tree  was  covered  with 
bark.  The  ingenuity  of  the  little  architects  consisted  in 
scraping  the  cell  almost  to  the  very  surface  of  the  wood, 
as  thin  as  writing-paper.  Previous,  therefore,  to  the 
chrysalis  making  its  way  through  the  feeble  barrier,  it 
could  not  have  been  suspected  that  an  insect  was  lodged 
under  the  smooth  wood.  We  observed  more  than  one 
of  these  insects  in  the  act  of  breaking  through/  this 
covering,  within  which  there  is  besides  a  round  movable 
lid,  a  sort  of  brown  wax." 

Beetles  of  various  other  kinds  are  notorious  carpenters  ; 
it  would,  however,  require  a  good-sized  volume  to  describe 
them  and  their  doings. 

Before  we  leave  the  wood-borers  and  devote  our  space 
to  woodworkers  of  another  kind,  we  must  mention  an 
insect  which,  though  absolutely  harmless  to  human 
beings,  never  fails,  by  reason  of  its  formidable  appearance, 
to  arouse  a  considerable  amount  of  apprehension  in  the 
minds  of  those  who  look  on  it  for  the  first  time ;  we  refer 
to  the  giant  wood-wasp.  The  female,  which  measures 
about  an  inch  and  a  half,  is  banded  with  yellow  and  black 
and  of  wasp-like  appearance ;  at  the  end  of  its  body  is  a 
formidable-looking  instrument  which  is  usually  mistaken 
for  a  sting  ;  as  a  matter  of  fact  it  is  simply  the  apparatus, 
called  an  ovipositor,  with  which  the  female  bores  a  hole 
in  wood,  that  she  may  lay  her  eggs  in  its  tissues. 

Felled  or  sickly  fir-trees  are  favoured  by  the  wood- 
wasps  ;  the  female  bores  a  hole  through  the  bark  with  her 
awl-like  ovipositor  and  lays  her  eggs  in  the  wood.  The 
larvae,  when  they  hatch,  tunnel  in  all  directions,  eating 
away  the  wood  as  they  go.  It  passes  through  their  bodies 
and  plugs  up  the  part  of  the  tunnel  which  has  been 
traversed,  so  that  the  larvae  always  dwell  in  a  closed 
chamber.  There  seems  to  be  some  doubt  concerning  the 
eventual  career  of  the  insect.  Some  authorities  aver  that 
the  grub  tunnels  almost  to  the  surface  of  the  tree  before 


Woodworkers 

it  changes  into  a  chrysalis,  after  the  manner  of  the 
clearwing-moths ;  others  aver  that  the  change  takes  place 
in  the  heart  of  the  tree  and  that  the  perfect  insects  eat 
their  way  out.  That  they  are  capable  of  doing  so  there 
can  be  no  doubt,  for  they  can  eat  through  lead-sheeting. 

In  America,  where,  by  the  way,  these  insects  are  called 
horn-tails,  one  species  displays  considerable  ingenuity. 
The  female  deposits  her  eggs  in  willow  branches,  and, 
after  doing  so,  she  girdles  the  tree — that  is,  removes  a  ring 
of  bark — and  in  this  manner  prevents  the  further  growth 
of  the  wood  which  might  conceivably  crush  her  progeny. 

In  a  well-ordered  scheme  of  nature  it  is  fitting  to  ask : 
Of  what  use  are  these  destructive  insects?  Well,  when 
they  first  came  upon  the  earth  there  were  no  such  things 
as  houses  and  furniture,  and  in  those  days  the  insect 
carpenters  did  good.  Concerning  them  an  eminent 
entomologist  said :  "  Probably  no  portion  of  the  world 
contains  a  larger  number  than  the  densely  timbered 
Amazon  basin.  In  these  great  forests  the  Longicornia 
[long-horned  beetles]  play  a  very  important  part  in  the 
economy  of  nature.  As  soon  as  a  tree  dies  and  begins  to 
decay,  their  larvae,  which  are  often  of  great  size,  attack 
it  and  bore  it  through  and  through  ;  the  work  of  boring 
from  their  larger  galleries  is  then  taken  up  by  various 
smaller  species  of  wood-boring  beetles  and  free  access  is 
then  given  to  the  rain  and  moisture  which  soon  reduce  the 
trunks  to  a  pulp  and  cause  them  not  only  to  disappear,  but 
to  act  as  manure  to  those  trees  that  take  their  place." 

The  second  class  of  wood  artificers  with  which  we  are 
concerned  are  the  gall-makers.  Like  the  wood-borers,  they 
are  of  many  species,  and  their  galls  are  as  varied  as  their 
kinds.  The  resin-moth  is  a  peculiar  gall-maker  which 
takes  advantage  of  the  fact  that  cone-bearing  trees,  when 
injured,  give  off  resins  freely.  The  female  lays  her  eggs 
at  the  tip  of  some  fir-tree,  and  when  the  caterpillars  hatch 
they  bite  into  the  wood,  thus  causing  the  resin  to  flow.  The 
ingenious  little  insects  put  the  sticky  substance  to  good 

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use.  They  so  mould  and  work  it  that  it  forms  a  good 
sized  double-chambered  shelter,  in  one  compartment  of 
which  they  live  and  in  the  other  place  their  excrement 
and  waste  food.  But  the  resin-moth  is  not  a  true  gall- 
maker. 

There  are  real  galls  in  plenty,  so  let  us  search  for  them  ; 
the  nearest  oak-tree,  or,  failing  that,  a  willow  or  rose  bush, 
will  probably  supply  all  we  need.  The  oak,  however,  is  the 
tree  for  galls ;  it  bristles  with  them  ;  oak  apples,  spangle, 
currant,  kidney,  and  artichoke  galls  are  a  few  picked  at 
random.  These  galls  were  familiar  objects  long  before  it 
was  known  that  they  were  the  work  of  insects,  and  this  is 
hardly  surprising,  for  the  galls  are  conspicuous,  the  gall 
insects  minute. 

Before  considering  any  gall  in  detail,  let  us  try  to  learn 
something  of  general  gall  formation.  We  will  therefore, 
in  imagination,  watch  a  female  gall  insect  at  work  ;  luck 
and  a  convenient  oak  leaf  will  supply  our  need,  and  luck 
is  an  essential.  When  the  insect  settles  on  the  leaf  we 
must  watch  her  through  a  pocket  lens,  for  she  is  too  small 
to  observe  with  the  naked  eye.  She  wanders  hither  and 
thither  on  the  leaf,  and  her  movements  are  by  no  means 
easy  to  follow. 

At  length  she  calls  a  halt  on  a  small  leaf  vein,  and  this 
is  the  opportunity  we  have  awaited.  From  the  end  of  her 
body  a  long,  fine,  thread-like  structure  is  unfolded.  It  is 
her  ovipositor,  and  she  loses  no  time  in  plunging  it  deeply 
into  the  tissue  of  the  leaf.  A  puncture  made,  the  single 
egg  passes  down  her  ovipositor  and  is  placed  in  position 
within  the  leaf.  Following  the  egg  comes  a  drop  of  fluid 
whose  purpose  was  for  long  misunderstood.  The  fluid 
was  thought  to  be  the  cause  of  the  gall  ;  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  it  is  merely  used  to  heal  the  wound  made  by  the 
female  gall  insect.  The  gall  or  swelling  on  the  plant 
may  assume  the  most  varied  and  remarkable  shapes,  and 
one  fact  we  must  never  lose  sight  of  is  this,  the  same 
species  of  insect  always  produces  the  same  kind  of  gall ; 

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the  insect  responsible  for  the  oak  apple  can  never  produce 
a  spangle  gall,  any  more  than  the  insect  which  produces 
the  robin's  pincushion  on  the  rose  can  make  the  pea  gall 
on  the  same  plant. 

The  Bedeguar,  or  robin's  pincushion  of  the  rose,  is  one  of 
our  commonest  galls ;  the  bright  red  woolly  growths  are 
familiar  objects  of  our  country  lanes.  The  female  gall 
insect  lays  its  eggs  in  the  stem  of  the  rose,  so  that  they 
come  in  contact  with  the  cambium.  Now  the  cambium 
is  the  part  of  the  plant  which  forms  the  new  tissue  and 
is  very  susceptible  to  any  irritant.  So  long  as  the  gall 
insect  remains  in  the  egg  stage  no  gall  is  formed ;  but 
with  the  hatching  of  the  egg,  the  malformation,  for  a  gall 
is  nothing  more  or  less,  begins  to  grow.  And  the  cause — 
possibly  the  constant  gnawing  of  the  little  grub,  probably 
some  irritant  substance  which  it  gives  off  from  its  body, 
or,  very  likely,  both  combined.  This  particular  gall  differs 
from  most  others  in  that  it  contains  several  larvae  instead 
of  a  single  one,  as  is  usually  the  case.  As  these  larvae 
develop,  the  well-known  red  pincushions  come  into  being. 
Their  woolly  outgrowths  are  really  malformed  leaves,  the 
best  that  the  plant  can  do  under  the  circumstances. 

We  will  devote  our  time  to  a  study  of  the  oak  which  will 
supply  us  with  one  of  the  romances  of  insect  life.  The 
objects  of  our  investigation  for  the  moment  are  the  common 
spangle  and  currant  galls.  The  former  are  to  be  found  on 
the  under  side  of  the  oak  leaves  about  July  ;  the  latter 
hang  from  the  catkins  or  leaves  early  in  the  year.  We 
have  said  that  the  same  species  of  gall  insect  always 
produces  the  same  kind  of  gall ;  the  insect  producing 
spangle  galls  is  of  the  same  kind  as  the  one  producing 
currant  galls :  are  we  then  guilty  of  a  "  terminological 
inexactitude"?  By  no  means,  for  these  particular  gall 
insects  provide  examples  of  a  very  wonderful  phenomenon 
known  as  alternation  of  generations. 

We  have  studiously  tried  to  avoid  wearying  or  perplexing 
our  readers  with  technicalities  or  obstuse  theories,  but 

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here  we  are  up  against  a  problem  on  which  we  feel  that 
we  are  justified  in  letting  ourselves  go  a  little,  for  the  whole 
subject  is  of  such  absorbing  interest  that  we  shall  prob- 
ably be  forgiven  for  our  lapse.  The  spangle  galls  some- 
what resemble  the  collections  of  spores,  called  sori,  to  be 
found  on  the  backs  of  fern  fronds ;  they  are  lens-shaped 
and  hairy ;  they  vary  in  colour  from  pale  yellow  to  deep 
brown.  Towards  autumn  the  oak  leaves  fall  and  the 
spangle  galls  with  them ;  in  each  gall  there  is  a  gall 
insect  larva.  During  late  autumn  the  rains  cause  the  galls 
to  swell  and  increase  in  size  considerably,  but  the  larva 
within  continues  to  feed,  paying  no  heed  to  frost  and 
snow  and  rain,  for  it  is  well  protected  from  the  elements. 
In  the  spring  the  insect  changes  into  a  chrysalis,  and 
emerges  as  an  adult  insect  a  little  later. 

Each  and  every  insect  coming  from  a  spangle  gall  is 
a  female ;  no  males  have  ever  been  discovered.  Unless, 
therefore,  Nature  came  to  the  rescue,  this  race  of  gall 
insects  would  soon  die  out.  This  is  not  to  be,  for  these 
females  can  reproduce  their  kind  without  the  help  of  a 
male,  a  feat  which  is  not  uncommon  in  the  insect  world. 
The  females  from  the  spangle  galls  are  provided  with 
very  long  ovipositors,  and  they  waste  no  time  in  plunging 
them  deep  into  a  dormant  oak  bud  and  depositing  their 
eggs  on  the  as  yet  undeveloped  catkins,  or  sometimes  on 
the  leaves.  As  the  bud  develops  the  catkins  elongate  and 
are  seen  to  bear  one  or  more  round  growths  about  the  size 
of  a  currant,  green  at  first  but  ripening  later  to  a  bright 
red  colour,  thus  still  more  closely  resembling  the  fruits  from 
which  they  derive  their  name.  About  May  the  adult 
insects  emerge  from  their  galls,  and  they  are  both  males 
and  females,  the  latter  differing  from  their  sisters  of  the 
spangle-gall  generation  in  many  respects,  notably  by  the 
absence  of  a  long  ovipositor,  which  would  be  useless, 
seeing  that  they  lay  their  eggs  just  below  the  skin  at  the 
back  of  an  oak  leaf— eggs  that  are  destined  to  form  larvae 
causing  spangle  galls. 

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Small  wonder  then  that  these  gall  insects  received 
different  scientific  names  before  it  was  shown  that  they 
were  merely  different  generations  of  one  and  the  same 
insect.  The  case  of  the  oak  apple  is  nearly  as  strange. 
Long  before  the  winter  has  left  us  the  little  gall-wasp, 
maker  of  this  well-known  gall,  is  hard  at  work.  She  lays 
her  eggs  in  the  end  buds  of  the  oak  branches,  first  of  all 
boring  a  hole  and  then  depositing  her  eggs  therein. 

A  well-known  entomologist  once  observed  the  work  of 
one  of  these  insects.  "When  it  had  finished  its  first  bud," 
he  wrote,  "  it  went  on,  without  interruption,  to  another,  and 
was  altogether  eighty  -  seven  hours  busily  employed  in 
laying  eggs."  In  these  two  buds,  five  hundred  and  eighty- 
two  eggs  were  counted.  Early  in  May  the  galls  begin 
to  grow,  and  four  short  weeks  later  they  are  fully  developed, 
being  soft  and  of  a  greenish-yellow  colour.  As  the  oak 
apples  grow  they  turn  rose-coloured,  and  shortly  after 
this  change  winged  males  and  wingless  females  bore  their 
respective  ways  from  the  galls.  These  females  are  smaller 
than  the  individuals  which  produced  them — their  mothers 
— and,  after  mating,  they  pass  down  the  trunk  of  the  oak- 
tree,  penetrate  the  soil  and  deposit  their  eggs  in  the  roots, 
causing  hard,  brown,  spherical  galls  to  be  formed.  From 
those  galls,  pale  brown,  wingless  females  emerge ;  they 
push  their  way  through  the  soil,  travel  up  the  trunk,  thereby 
running  the  gauntlet  of  tits,  nuthatches  and  tree  creepers, 
ever  on  the  alert  for  insect  fare,  till  at  length  they  reach 
the  end  buds  of  the  tree  and,  laying  their  eggs  therein, 
the  life  cycle  begins  anew.  It  is  interesting  to  note  that 
the  oak  apples  which  are  formed  in  spring,  when  the  trees 
are  full  of  sap,  are  themselves  sappy  ;  the  root  galls,  formed 
in  autumn,  when  there  is  little  sap  in  the  trees,  are  quite 
hard  and  effectually  protect  the  larvae  within  from  frost, 
during  the  long  winter  months. 

The  marble  gall  of  the  oak,  commonest  of  all  galls  and 
often  wrongly  called  the  oak  apple,  is  still  a  mystery,  for 
nothing  but  female  gall  insects  have  ever  been  discovered. 


Woodworkers 

Is  this  a  case  of  alternation  of  generations  in  which  only 
one  generation  has  as  yet  been  discovered  ?  Is  it,  on  the 
other  hand,  a  rare  example  of  a  race  of  females  which, 
from  year's  end  to  year's  end,  throughout  the  ages,  can 
reproduce  their  kind  without  the  aid  of  males  ?  It  may 
be  so,  but  it  seems  unlikely.  Perhaps  some  reader  of  this 
page  may  one  day  solve  the  problem — who  knows  ? 

One  of  the  most  ingenious  galls  is  the  pine-apple  gall 
found  on  the  spruce.  The  cause  of  this  curious  gall  is  a 
bug.  Towards  autumn  the  larvse  which  are  destined  to 
produce  the  galls  travel  to  the  bases  of  the  spruce  shoots, 
and  there  they  dig  their  beaks  deep  in  the  tissues  of  the 
tree.  Being  bugs,  they  are  all  armed  with  sharp,  pointed 
beaks,  and  by  these  means  they  remain  suspended  from 
and  attached  to  a  shoot  till  spring.  During  the  winter  no 
change  takes  place  in  the  host  tree,  and  the  young  bugs 
take  no  nourishment  from  it.  With  the  advent  of  spring, 
each  individual,  its  beak  still  buried  in  the  plant  tissue, 
begins  to  suck  the  juices  of  the  tree,  and  then  and  then 
only  the  pine-apple  gall  begins  to  be  formed. 

Without  illustrative  figures  it  is  by  no  means  easy  to 
make  quite  clear  the  changes  which  take  place  during  the 
formation  of  the  gall.  At  any  rate  the  bases  of  the  leaves 
begin  to  swell  and,  as  they  are  situated  close  to  one  another, 
they  gradually  fuse  to  form  the  gall ;  but  at  the  same 
time  some  little  space  is  left  at  their  outer  sides,  so  that 
the  result  is  the  formation  of  a  swollen  portion  of  the 
stem  in  which  there  are  a  number  of  little  cavities, 
represented  by  the  spaces  between  the  leaves. 

As  the  aphides  grow,  for  such  are  these  gall  insects,  they 
cover  themselves  with  a  white,  waxy,  woolly  substance, 
which  affords  them  some  protection.  About  a  month 
after  the  beginning  of  the  gall  formation  the  aphides 
begin  to  lay  their  eggs,  an  operation  they  continue  to 
perform  for  about  six  weeks,  and  each  egg  is  attached  to 
the  spruce  twig  by  a  thread-like  stalk.  The  larvae  emerge, 
just  about  the  time  the  cavities  between  the  leaves  of  the 

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gall  are  ready  for  occupation,  "  a  perfection  of  adjustment 
which  excites  our  deepest  admiration."  The  larvae  crawl 
into  the  spaces  between  the  already  malformed  leaves  and 
begin  to  feed  by  sucking  the  plant  juices  with  their  beaks, 
just  as  their  parents  did. 

The  feeding  of  the  larvae  causes  further  abnormal  growth 
in  the  gall,  with  the  result  that  it  grows  still  more  and,  in 
doing  so,  completely  shuts  in  the  larvae,  and  the  "  pine- 
apple "  is  formed.  In  each  cavity  there  may  be  as  many 
as  fifty  larvae,  and  the  whole  gall  may  house  two  thousand 
larvae.  Late  in  the  summer  the  larvae  stop  feeding  and 
the  growth  of  the  gall  ceases  ;  so  that  at  the  end  of  each 
cavity,  where  the  larvae  lie  hidden,  a  small  hole  is  formed, 
through  which  the  pupae  escape  and  turn  into  winged 
females.  These  individuals  lay  their  eggs  at  the  bases  of 
the  leaf  buds  and  the  life  cycle  begins  anew. 


CHAPTER   VI 

LARVAE  AND   THEIR  WORK 

IT  is  hardly  surprising  that  insect  larvae  should  display 
so  much  ingenuity  in  the  means  they  employ  to  protect 
themselves  from  injury.  For  the  most  part  they  are  thin- 
skinned,  plump-bodied  individuals,  and  so  form  appetis- 
ing fare  for  parasitic  and  predatory  enemies.  They  are 
entirely  dependent  on  their  own  resources  ;  maternal  care 
is  unknown  in  the  insect  world,  except  in  the  earwigs,  one 
species  of  sawfly  and  the  wood-boring  beetle  we  have  just 
mentioned.  We  shall  have  something  to  say  concerning 
protective  colouring  and  mimicry  in  a  later  chapter,  and 
although  these  devices  must  certainly  be  included  in  any 
account  of  the  means  of  self-preservation  adopted  by 
immature  insects,  we  now  wish  to  say  a  word  or  two 
concerning  the  little  buildings  constructed  by  various 
larvae,  in  which  they  may  hide,  using  them  either  as  lairs 
for  the  capture  of  living  creatures  likely  to  make  succulent 
meals,  or  as  homes  in  which  they  may  live  and  feed 
without  molestation. 

In  the  former  class  we  must  certainly  place  the  larva  of 
the  tiger-beetle.  Many  of  the  tiger-beetles  are  noteworthy 
on  account  of  their  beautiful  colouring,  charmingly  iri- 
descent metallic  green  and  blues  predominating.  Long- 
legged  creatures,  the  adult  beetles  can  race  along  the 
ground  at  an  incredible  speed,  an  accomplishment  which 
stands  them  in  good  stead,  for  they  obtain  their  livelihood 
by  hunting.  Curiously  enough,  the  larva  is  also  a  flesh- 
eating  individual,  but  owing  to  his  build  he  is  quite  unable 
to  pursue  his  prey  after  the  manner  of  his  parents.  That, 
however,  does  not  upset  him,  for  his  methods  are  equally 
efficacious  and  less  laborious.  His  first  and  only  home  is 

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in  the  ground  ;  he  hatches  from  an  egg  laid  in  the  soil  by 
the  mother  beetle. 

A  curious,  almost  repulsive,  creature  is  the  tiger-beetle 
larva.  Nearly  at  the  centre  of  his  body  there  is  a  peculiar 
kink,  so  that  his  outline  is,  roughly,  that  of  the  figure  3. 
His  head  is  massive,  horny  and  flattened,  and  it  serves  him 
well  for  more  than  one  purpose.  In  early  life  he  uses  his 
hard,  flat  head  as  a  hod  on  which  to  carry  the  earth  from 
the  spot  where  he  hatched  to  the  surface  of  the  ground, 
and  thus  he  forms  his  burrow.  This  subterranean  home 
may  be  more  than  a  foot  in  length,  and  is  perfectly 
vertical.  On  the  completion  of  the  excavation  the 
creature's  head  serves  another  purpose  :  it  acts  as  a  stopper 
for  the  burrow.  Thus,  at  the  open  end  of  its  earthen 
home,  the  larva  will  await  its  living  meal  for  hours  on 
end.  Any  insect  passing  near  its  formidable  jaws  is 
seized  and  drawn  into  the  burrow,  to  be  devoured  at 
leisure. 

There  is  one  most  interesting  point  in  connection  with 
this  larva  which  we  have  not  mentioned.  We  remarked 
that  its  outline  is  that  of  a  figure  3 ;  well,  on  the 
hinder  end  of  the  creature's  back — that  is,  on  the  outer 
edge  of  the  lower  loop — there  are  a  pair  of  sharp  hooks 
which  serve  a  useful  purpose.  By  their  means  the  larva 
hooks  itself  into  position  at  the  mouth  of  its  burrow ; 
when  any  prey  is  caught,  the  hooks  are  released  and  the 
larva,  with  its  victim,  drops  to  the  bottom  of  its  lair,  like 
the  proverbial  streak  of  lightning.  The  home  of  the 
tiger-beetle  larva  is  indeed  a  simple  structure  compared 
with  some  of  the  constructions  built  by  other  larvae. 

Some  of  the  caddis-fly  larvae,  like  those  of  the  tiger- 
beetle,  are  flesh-eaters  ;  they  also  construct  lairs,  but  they 
live  in  water  and  not  in  the  ground.  The  homes  of  these 
water-dwellers  are  so  diverse  that  we  cannot  describe 
them  all  in  detail.  Two  species  cut  green  leaves  into 
almost  rectangular  pieces  and  fasten  their  edges  together, 
so  as  to  form  complete  tubular  or  rectangular  mantles,  as 

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Larvae  and  their  Work 

the  case  may  be.  Another  common  species  places  short 
lengths  of  stick  transversely  across  one  another,  and  fastens 
them  together  to  form  its  spiky  home.  A  third  constructs 
a  house  of  small  shells,  some  of  which  still  contain  their 
owners  who  are  carried  about  willy-nilly  by  the  caddis 
larva.  Still  another  builds  a  tube  of  fine  sand. 

As  this  list  could  be  continued  to  considerable  lengths, 
let  us  mention  a  little  point  of  interest  before  describing 
two  of  the  most  extraordinary  larval  houses  to  be  found 
amongst  these  adept  house-builders.  The  caddis  larva 
must  needs  be  something  of  an  engineer,  or  should  we  say 
a  physicist,  as  well  as  a  builder.  His  home  must  be  light 
enough  to  be  moved  freely  from  place  to  place,  yet  not  so 
light  that  it  will  float  in  water.  An  examination  of  a  few 
of  these  larval  cases  will  show  some  which  are  absolutely 
ruined  from  an  architectural  point  of  view. 

Beautifully  built,  in  the  main,  of  sticks,  or  shells,  or 
pebbles,  or  sand,  or  whatever  material  is  most  favoured  by 
the  particular  kind  of  larva,  each  item  in  the  structure 
being  of  approximately  the  same  size  as  all  the  others, 
yet  the  whole  appearance  of  the  case  is  spoiled  by  the 
fact  that  a  large  pebble  or  shell  is  affixed  to  one  side  of 
the  case.  These  eyesores  are  not  without  their  uses  :  they 
serve  as  ballast  for  the  caddis  home ;  they  prevent  the 
little  building  from  floating  to  the  surface  of  the  water. 

And  now  for  the  more  ingenious  caddis  dwellings. 
There  is  one  kind  of  larva  which,  forsaking  the  conventional 
tubular  case,  builds  one  of  sand  exactly  like  a  snail  shell 
in  appearance.  So  close  is  the  resemblance  between  the 
homes  of  these  two  quite  unrelated  creatures  that  the 
caddis  dwelling  for  long  puzzled  naturalists,  one  of  whom 
actually  described  it  as  a  new  kind  of  snail.  Curiously 
enough,  the  home  of  a  minute  marine  worm  closely  mimics 
a  snail  shell ;  this  little  creature  is  often  found  in  hundreds 
attached  to  the  common  bladder  wrack. 

The  second  dwelling  we  are  about  to  describe  is  more 
ingenious  though  no  more  curious.  Everyone  has  either 
F  81 


Larvae  and  their  Work 

seen  the  decoys  used  for  the  capture  of  wild-duck  in  the 
fen  country,  or  at  any  rate  pictures  of  them.  These  traps 
consist  of  nets  arranged  to  form  a  long  tube,  spread  wide 
at  the  mouth  and  gradually  tapering  off  into  quite  a  narrow 
tunnel.  The  ducks  are  lured  into  the  large  open  end  and 
driven  up  into  the  narrow  part,  where  they  are  caught. 

Whether  man  reaped  his  idea  for  this  novel  form  of  trap 
from  the  caddis-flies  we  cannot  say,  but  it  is  a  fact  that 
one  kind  of  caddis  larva  builds  a  home  which  is  an  exact 
replica  in  miniature  of  a  fenland  duck  decoy.  The  open 
end  of  this  funnel-shaped  dwelling  is  composed  of  strong 
silk  netting,  held  in  position  by  a  few  arched  twigs ;  in 
the  narrow  end  of  the  funnel  the  larva  lurks.  The  mouth 
of  the  dwelling  always  faces  up-stream,  in  order  that 
water  insects  may  be  carried  down  into  it ;  there  they  are 
seized  and  devoured  by  the  larva. 

No  one  watching  some  free  flying  moth  disporting  itself 
on  the  evening  air  would  ever  suspect  that  the  larvae  of 
some  of  these  children  of  the  night  live  in  water  and,  what 
is  more,  construct  larval  cases  rivalling  those  of  the  caddis- 
flies.  One  of  these  insects,  the  brown  china-marks  moth, 
deposits  its  eggs  on  the  under  sides  of  water-lily  leaves  and 
covers  them  with  a  jelly-like  covering.  By  the  way,  this 
habit  of  many  water-dwelling  animals  of  covering  their 
eggs  with  jelly  is  not  without  its  uses  :  the  jelly  protects 
the  eggs  from  injury  by  hungry  fishes.  The  first  act- of  the 
caterpillars,  when  they  hatch  from  the  eggs,  is  to  build  a 
home  for  themselves.  This  they  do  by  cutting  two  neat  little 
oval-shaped  pieces  from  the  leaf  surface  and  binding  their 
edges  together  with  silk,  so  as  to  form  a  lens-shaped  shelter. 
The  small  china-marks  moth  lays  its  eggs  on  duckweed, 
a  well-known  floating  water  plant.  The  larva  spins 
together  a  number  of  the  round  duckweed  leaves  with  silk 
and  builds  a  tubular  case,  remarkably  like  the  cases  of 
some  caddis-fly  larvae. 

A  very  curious  little  creature  is  a  leaf-eating  beetle  of 
aquatic  habits.  The  female  eats  circular  holes  in  the 

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Larvae  and  their  Work 

floating  leaves  of  water-lily  and  deposits  her  eggs  either 
in  a  single  or  double  row  around  the  hole,  and  on  the 
under  side  of  the  leaf.  The  larvae  feed  on  the  water-lily 
roots,  spending  all  their  time  below  water ;  they  have  no 
gills  nor  other  organs  to  fit  them  for  such  a  life,  for  which 
they  appear  ill  adapted.  The  manner  in  which  these 
larvae  obtain  air  is  ingenious  in  the  extreme. 

Now  water  plants  differ  from  land  plants  in  that  they 
have  large  air-spaces  enclosed  in  their  tissues,  and  this 
enclosed  air  is  stolen  by  our  little  insect.  On  the  hinder 
end  of  his  back  there  are  two  curved  spines  which  are 
connected  with  breathing  tubes.  Naturalists  noticed  that 
the  roots  frequented  by  these  larvae  bore  sundry  slits  and 
scars,  always  at  about  the  same  distance  from  one  another, 
and  the  distance  was  the  length  of  a  larva.  Further  in- 
vestigation showed  that  the  cute  little  creature  inserted 
its  spines  into  the  roots  of  the  water-lily  and  pushed 
them  home  till  they  reached  the  air-spaces  within ;  it 
literally  tapped  the  roots  of  air.  The  cocoon  of  this 
insect  is  no  less  ingenious.  It  is  a  close-woven  silken 
structure  closely  applied  to  the  root,  but  on  the  side  which 
is  in  contact  with  the  plant  there  is  no  silken  wall.  The 
outside  of  the  root  forms  the  wall  and  is  punctured  with 
many  holes  through  which  air  passes  to  the  chrysalis. 

Another  point  worthy  of  mention  is  that,  as  a  rule, 
wounds  on  these  roots  quickly  heal,  a  happening  that 
would  be  fatal  to  the  chrysalis,  seeing  that  it  is  quite 
unable  to  keep  the  air-holes  open.  By  one  of  those 
provisions  of  which  Nature  shows  so  many  examples,  the 
wounds,  in  this  case,  do  not  heal  till  the  cocoon  is  either 
removed  or  destroyed,  till  water  is  allowed  to  enter,  in 
other  words. 

There  are  other  case-makers  which  we  must  consider, 
land  case-makers  though.  The  bag  worms,  of  which  some  of 
the  finest  examples  are  found  in  Australia,  build  larva  cases 
nearly  as  diverse  in  structure  as  are  the  cases  of  the  various 
caddis-flies.  Most  of  these  cases  are  built  of  small  sticks, 

83 


Larvae  and  their  Work 

laid  transversely  one  on  the  other  and  bound  together 
with  silk  so  that  the  whole  structure  forms  a  tube ;  in 
other  species  the  sticks  are  laid  longitudinally,  but  whatever 
the  plan,  the  peculiarity  which  cannot  fail  to  strike  an 
observer  is  the  remarkable  uniformity  in  the  length  of  the 
sticks  used  in  building  the  home.  Within  its  case  the 
larva  dwells  and  feeds  contentedly  on  the  leaves  of  its 
favourite  food  plant,  probably  a  wattle ;  should  danger 
threaten,  the  insect  simply  withdraws  into  its  shell  after 
the  manner  of  a  tortoise  and  remains  in  hiding  till  the 
danger  be  passed. 

Equally  ingenious,  but  less  obvious  on  account  of  their 
small  size,  are  the  cases  of  the  clothes-moth  caterpillars. 
The  mother  moth  lays  her  eggs  on  some  fabric,  wool  or 
fur  for  choice,  and  in  due  course  the  little  house-building 
larva  emerges  therefrom.  For  the  construction  of  its 
dwelling,  the  creature  makes  use  of  the  nap  of  the  cloth  on 
which  it  is  hatched  ;  from  this  material  it  builds  a  tubular 
cell  which  is  just  long  enough  to  conceal  its  body.  The 
diminutive  tube  is  wider  at  the  centre  than  af  either  end, 
and  purposely  so,  for  the  following  reason.  As  the  eater- 
pilfer  feeds,  which,  by  the  way,  it  does  on  the  body  of  the 
cloth  and  not  on  the  nap,  it  grows  and  eventually  becomes 
too  large  for  its  home. 

Now  when  the  caddis-fly  larvae  are  too  long  for  their 
cases  they  simply  build  others  of  suitable  size  ;  not  so  the 
clothes-moth  larva,  which  enlarges  his  original  home  to 
suit  his  needs,  and  in  order  to  do  so  it  is  necessary  to 
be  able  to  turn  round,  hence  the  larger  size  of  the  tube 
towards  the  centre.  When  it  is  necessary  to  start  re- 
building operations,  the  larva  cuts  a  triangular  piece  from 
his  tube,  opens  wide  the  cut  ends  and  proceeds  to  fill  up 
the  space  thus  formed  with  new  material.  Then  he  turns 
round  and  repeats  the  operation  at  the  other  end.  Should 
the  tube  be  too  short,  material  is  added  to  either  end  in 
rings.  The  whole  operation  is  completed  without  the 
larva  leaving  the  shelter  of  its  home.  By  moving  a  young 


Larvae  and  their  Work 

clothes-moth  caterpillar  from  material  of  one  colour  to 
that  of  another  during  his  growth,  he  will  end  up  with  a 
home  rivalling  Joseph's  coat ;  for  with  each  reconstruction 
he  will  insert  material  of  another  colour  to  those  already 
used. 

Certain  insects  make  cases  of  leaves — living  leaves  and 
not  snippets  cut  from  a  leaf.  By  one  of  Nature's  in- 
explicable vagaries,  very  small  insects  nearly  always  build 
their  cases  of  very  large  leaves  and  the  means  they  adopt 
to  overcome  their  difficulties  are  ingenious  in  the  extreme. 
Of  these  "  leaf-rollers,"  as  they  are  called,  one  of  the  most 
interesting  is  the  birch  weevil.  The  female  of  this  little 
beetle  is  too  small  to  deal  with  a  whole  birch  leaf,  but  she 
is  nothing  daunted  by  that.  Selecting  a  point  on  the  leaf 
margin  nearly  midway  between  leaf  stalk  and  tip,  she  cuts 
a  way  from  margin  to  midrib  and  repeats  the  operation  on 
the  opposite  side,  so  that  the  leaf  is  cut  in  two,  except  for 
the  midrib,  which  is  left  undamaged. 

The  next  proceeding  consists  in  rolling  inwards  the 
edges  of  the  leaf  nearest  to  the  tip  till  they  form  a  tube 
and  the  whole  structure  has  the  appearance  of  a  small  leaf 
whose  tip  is  elongated  and  formed  into  the  shape  of 
a  cylinder.  The  labours  of  the  beetle,  however,  are  not 
yet  completed.  The  leafy  home  is  destined  to  form  a 
shelter  for  eggs  and  larvae  and,  in  its  present  state,  would 
permit  its  living  contents  to  fall  out  at  the  end.  The 
beetle,  therefore,  by  the  aid  of  legs  and  head,  tucks  in  the 
tip  of  the  leaf  to  form  an  end  to  its  cylinder,  much  as 
a  grocer  tucks  in  the  paper  of  the  cones  in  which  he  sells 
his  sugar. 

A  weevil,  no  larger  than  the  birch  weevil,  constructs  its 
larval  shelter  of  the  poplar  leaves  on  which  it  dwells. 
This  little  beetle,  though  industrious,  patient  and,  for  its 
size,  strong,  is  yet  far  too  weak  to  deal  with  the  relatively 
large  leaf  of  the  poplar-tree :  a  leaf  which  is  far  less  pli- 
able than  the  birch  leaf.  The  ingenuity  displayed  by  this 
beetle  to  overcome  its  difficulty  is  little  short  of  marvellous. 

85 


Larvae  and  their  Work 

The  living  leaf  is  too  strong  and  lengthy  to  deal  with  ; 
a  dead  leaf  would  be  equally  useless  to  the  beetle,  for  it 
would  be  wiry  yet  brittle.  The  object  of  the  beetle, 
therefore,  is  to  obtain  a  wilted  leaf,  for  in  that  condition 
it  may  be  rolled  far  more  easily.  The  insect,  therefore, 
makes  a  minute  puncture  in  the  leaf  stalk,  not  through  the 
skin  alone,  but  into  the  parts  of  the  leaf  which  are  bringing 
nourishment  thereto  from  the  stem.  This  operation 
causes  the  leaf  to  become  soft  without  killing  it :  brings 
it,  in  fact,  to  the  very  condition  desired  by  the  beetle. 
Next  the  industrious  little  creature,  beginning  at  one 
edge,  rolls  the  leaf  lengthways.  Using  her  feet  for  the 
purpose,  she  holds  on  to  the  leaf  blade  firmly  with  those 
on  one  side  and  rolls  the  leaf  neatly  with  those  on  the 
other.  The  task  is  a  laborious  one ;  her  hold  on  the  leaf 
must  never  be  relaxed  or  it  would  fly  back  like  a  watch- 
spring.  Methodically  she  works.  As  she  rolls  the  leaf  she 
travels  from  one  end  to  the  other ;  then,  without  turning 
round,  she  moves  backwards,  continuing  her  rolling  all  the 
time,  a  little  living  shuttle.  When  the  leaf  blade  is  rolled 
to  the  midrib,  the  beetle  rolls  the  other  half  of  the  leaf 
round  the  portion  already  rolled,  and  eventually  her 
labours  are  at  an  end,  or  nearly  so. 

When  a  neat  cylinder  has  been  rolled,  the  structure  of 
the  leaf  comes  to  the  insect's  aid.  On  its  margin  there 
are  a  number  of  minute  glands  which  give  off  a  sticky  sub- 
stance. These  marginal  glands  are  firmly  pressed  into 
contact  with  the  body  of  the  leaf  by  the  beetle,  who  uses 
her  snout  for  the  purpose.  The  sticky  secretion  forms  an 
excellent  glue,  and  the  leaf  edge  remains  in  position.  In 
the  cylinder,  the  beetle  deposits  one  or  more  eggs,  secure 
in  the  knowledge  that  its  larvae  will  be  able  to  feed  with- 
out fear  of  molestation. 

The  caterpillars  of  the  oak  tortrix  moth  are  leaf-rollers 
which  go  about  their  business  in  quite  a  different  manner 
from  the  insects  we  have  just  mentioned.  They  are  par- 
tial to  oak  leaves.  Though  they  build  some  remarkably 

86 


Larvae  and  their  Work 

ingenious  shelters,  they  do  not  exhibit  such  wonderful 
uniformity  of  architecture  as  the  beetles.  Another  point 
of  difference  is  that  the  beetle  larvae  remain  in  their  leafy 
shelters,  come  what  may,  but  the  caterpillars  of  the  leaf- 
rolling  moths,  or,  more  correctly,  the  leaf-rolling  cater- 
pillars, when  alarmed,  leave  their  hiding-places  and  hang 
from  the  leaves  by  silken  threads  which  they  spin  them- 
selves, only  returning  to  their  shelters  when  the  danger  be 
over.  Whatever  surprise  we  may  have  felt  that  a  creature 
so  small  as  the  birch  weevil  could  roll  a  birch  leaf  must 
be  intensified  when  we  consider  how  it  is  possible  for  the 
ofttimes  exceedingly  diminutive  leaf-rolling  caterpillars 
to  mould  a  living  leaf  to  suit  their  purpose.  These  little 
individuals  perform  some  astounding  engineering  feats. 
Let  us  see  how  they  work. 

Diligent  search  on  the  part  of  the  caterpillar  has  its 
reward  in  the  discovery  of  a  leaf  which  is,  maybe,  ever  so 
slightly  curved.  Such  a  leaf  makes  a  good  starting-point 
for  the  little  engineer,  whose  first  care  is  to  run  a  number 
of  silken  threads  from  the  curved  margin  of  the  leaf  to 
a  point  as  far  as  it  can  reach  on  the  leaf  blade.  This 
preliminary  structure  may  be  looked  upon  as  a  kind  'of 
scaffolding  from  which  the  more  useful  part  of  the  work 
may  be  undertaken,  for  these  first  threads  do  not  cause 
the  leaf  to  roll  any  more.  Having  spun  a  sufficiency  of 
silk  for  its  purpose,  the  caterpillar  climbs  upon  them  and, 
by  pressing  thereon,  sets  up  a  tension  which  causes  the 
leaf  margin  to  be  drawn  a  little  nearer  to  the  blade,  ever 
so  little  nearer  certainly,  but  sufficient  for  the  engineer's 
purpose. 

Now  the  larva  repeats  its  spinning  operations,  fixing  its 
new  threads  as  far  over  on  the  convex  side  of  the  leaf  curl 
as  possible  and  as  far  towards  the  centre  of  the  leaf  as 
it  can  reach.  From  side  to  side  the  industrious  little 
creature's  head  waves  as  it  spins,  till  at  length  it  finishes 
its  system  of  stay  ropes  and  the  leaf  has  been  pulled  over 
a  shade  more.  The  operation  is  repeated  again  and 


Larvae  and  their  Work 

again;  and  each  time  the  leaf  becomes  slightly  more  curled. 
At  length,  after  many  hours'  work,  during  which  the  larva 
has  scarcely  ever  cried  a  halt,  the  leaf  is  rolled  and  the 
caterpillar  seeks  a  well-deserved  rest  within  its  newly 
built  home.  So  common  are  these  rolled  leaves,  we  pass 
them  by  unnoticed  every  summer  in  their  hundreds  of 
thousands,  yet  each  leaf  represents  the  result  of  the 
untiring  labours  of  a  clever  and  industrious  little  insect. 

Equally  common  in  our  hedgerows  is  the  home  of  the 
"  cuckoo  spit "  insect,  or  "  frog-hopper."  The  larva  frog- 
hopper,  unable  to  escape  its  enemies  by  a  series  of  gigantic 
leaps,  like  its  parents,  must  needs  have  some  protection. 
He  cannot  build  a  leaf  shelter,  he  cannot  roll  leaves  nor 
burrow  into  the  ground,  but  he  has  a  big  appetite  and  he 
puts  it  to  good  use,  or  would  do  so  if  certain  clever  birds 
had  not  found  him  out.  Related  to  the  green-flies,  he,  like 
them,  possesses  an  awl-like  mouth,  which  he  digs  into 
plant  stems  and  sucks  sap  therefrom  in  quantity.  Much 
of  this  sap  he  ejects  in  the  form  of  a  somewhat  sticky, 
clear  liquid  ;  having  done  so,  he  wags  his  tail  so  violently 
that  the  liquid  is  beaten  up  into  a  froth  which  completely 
covers  him  ;  it  is,  in  fact,  the  well-known  cuckoo  spit.  If 
left  alone  the  larva  would  develop  into  a  full-grown  frog- 
hopper  within  his  hiding-place,  but  certain  birds  have  seen 
through  his  subterfuge  and  rudely  pluck  him  from  his 
shelter,  to  his  discomfort.  The  leaf-rollers  have  their 
counterpart  in  the  leaf-miners,  which  may  be  the  larvae 
either  of  moths,  beetles,  or  flies,  the  first-named  being  the 
commonest. 

The  least  observant  among  us  must  have  seen  some 
mined  leaves.  Roses,  celery,  thistles  and  oak  are  amongst 
the  plants  whose  leaves  are  most  frequently  mined.  It 
will  be  easier  to  understand  how  these  little  insects 
work  if  we  know  something  of  the  general  structure  of  a 
leaf.  In  very  non-technical  language,  each  leaf  may  be 
looked  upon  as  a  kind  of  sandwich,  with  soft  green 
vegetable  matter  between  an  upper  and  lower  parchment- 

88 


Larvae  and  their  Work 

like  skin.  Now  the  leaf-miners  are  very  ingeniously 
protected  from  their  enemies,  and  that  without  the  least 
effort  on  their  own  part.  The  mother  moth,  beetle  or  fly 
lays  her  eggs  either  on,  or  just  below,  the  surface  of  the 
leaf  skin,  and  directly  the  caterpillar  hatches  it  makes  a 
hole  through  the  skin,  if  its  mother  has  not  already  done  so, 
and  proceeds  to  feed  upon  the  luscious  green  food  below. 
It  walks  as  it  feeds,  so  that  before  long  a  sinuous  tunnel 
is  excavated  in  the  leaf,  resembling  a  winding  river  on 
a  map. 

The  farther  the  caterpillar  winds  its  way,  the  wider 
the  tunnel  becomes,  for  as  the  insect  grows  it  naturally 
requires  more  and  more  room.  Accordingly  it  eats  away 
more  of  the  green  part  of  the  leaf.  By  the  time  the 
insect  is  ready  to  turn  into  a  chrysalis  its  leafy  burrow  is  of 
a  considerable  length.  At  its  termination  the  change  into 
a  chrysalis  takes  place  and  the  perfect  insect  eats  its  way 
to  freedom  at  a  later  date.  What  an  elysian  existence ! 
Food  in  plenty  and  absolute  protection  from  enemies  and 
the  elements,  for  the  leaf  skin  prevents  any  harm  coming 
to  the  caterpillar  short  of  a  pinch  from  human  ringers. 

All  the  larvae  we  have  described  so  far  live  lonely  lives 
apart  from  their  fellows.  There  are  certain  caterpillars 
which  club  together  for  mutual  protection  ;  not,  be  it  said, 
in  recognised  social  comnunities,  as  the  bees  and  ants,  but 
in  simple  herding  together  for  safety's  sake.  These  larvae 
are  known  as  tent  caterpillars,  because  they  construct 
silken  tents  of  remarkably  tough  material,  beneath  which 
they  take  shelter  in  time  of  danger.  It  is  wellnigh 
impossible  to  relate  the  shape  of  any  of  these  tents,  say 
the  one  constructed  by  the  small  ermine  moth  larvae. 
They  are  simply  sheets  of  silk,  woven  in  an  irregular  manner, 
on  the  branch  of  some  food  plant,  to  form  a  hollow  shelter 
for  the  voracious  creatures  within. 

It  is  not  long  before  all  the  leaves  enclosed  by  the  tent 
have  been  eaten,  but  before  this  tragic  event  occurs  the 
larvae  have  grown  considerably  and  are  better  able  to 


Larvae  and  their  Work 

look  after  themselves  than  when  first  hatched.  Then 
they  evince  a  desire  to  go  out  and  see  the  world,  so  they 
scatter  upon  the  branches  of  their  food  plant  and  devour 
its  leaves  greedily.  At  the  least  sign  of  danger,  in  the 
shape  of  birds  or  rain,  they  scuttle  back  to  the  shelter  of 
their  tent.  We  have  mentioned  that  the  fabric  of  the  tent 
is  tough,  and  so  it  is,  but  not  so  tough  that  a  bird  could 
not  break  it  down.  Why  then  do  not  the  larvae,  which 
may  easily  be  seen  within  their  abode,  suffer  from  the 
depredations  of  birds?  For  the  same  reason  that  most 
birds  will  not  attack  seeds  or  young  plants  which  are 
protected  by  strands  of  thread,  though  it  must  be  admitted 
that  after  a  while  thread  has  no  terrors  for  the  common 
sparrow. 

On  another  page  we  mentioned  a  fly  bearing  such  a  close 
resemblance  to  the  honey-bee  that  throughout  the  ages 
bee  and  fly  have  been  confused.  Well,  the  "  drone-fly,"  as 
it  is  called,  has  a  further  interest  for  us.  Its  larva  is  one  of 
the  most  interesting  and  peculiar  in  the  insect  world. 
The  " drone-fly"  delights  in  sunshine  and  honey  and 
pollen  ;  as  it  flits  from  flower  to  flower  on  the  hottest  of 
days  one  would  never  associate  it  with  reeking,  stagnant 
water.  Yet  it  is  on  the  surface  of  such  water  that  it  lays 
its  eggs. 

The  larva  is  a  most  eccentric  individual ;  he  spends  his 
time  crawling  along  the  slimy  bottom  of  his  filthy  pond, 
yet  he  possesses  no  apparatus  for  breathing  below  water, 
as  do  all  the  true  aquatic  insects.  Instead,  he  possesses  a 
wonderful  telescopic  tail  through  which  he  breathes.  The 
dirty-white,  soft-bodied  larva  is  about  two-thirds  of  an 
inch  in  length,  but  his  tail  may  be  as  long  as  five  inches. 
Its  tip  always  reaches  exactly  to  the  surface  of  the  water. 
When  the  maggot  crawls  into  the  deeper  parts  of  his  pond 
his  tail  lengthens  ;  when  shallower  water  is  sought  his 
tail  decreases  in  length.  This  very  peculiar  structure  has 
earned  the  insect  the  name  of  rat-tailed  maggot. 

Another  interesting  aquatic  insect  is  the  buffalo  gnat. 

90 


Larvae  and  their  Work 

The  female  flits  along  the  surface  of  running  streams  and 
lays  her  eggs  on  rocks  just  below  the  water.  Running, 
pure  water  is  as  necessary  to  this  insect  as  was  stagnant 
water  to  the  "drone-fly"  larva.  In  due  course  the  larvae 
emerge,  and  they  spend  their  lives  standing  on  their  tails 
or  crawling  from  place  to  place  with  a  curious  looping 
action,  like  a  leech  or  a  looper  caterpillar. 

Now,  dwelling  in  running  water  and  being  quite  unable 
to  swim,  there  is  always  a  danger  of  these  little  creatures 
being  washed  down-stream.  True,  they  are  armed  with 
hooks  on  their  sucker  feet  which  enable  them  to  obtain 
a  firm  hold  of  slippery  rocks.  In  addition  to  these  hooks, 
they  spin  fine  life-lines.  When  alarmed  they  leave  go  of 
their  resting-places  and  swing  out  on  the  end  of  their 
silken  life-lines,  hauling  themselves  back  to  rest  when 
danger  no  longer  threatens.  When  fully  fed,  they  make 
slipper-shaped  nests,  not  unlike  those  of  swallows,  and 
these  they  glue  to  a  water  weed  with  the  open  ends 
pointing  up-stream. 

At  first  the  nests  are  closed,  but  later  the  broad  ends 
are  removed.  In  these  nests  they  turn  into  pupae,  and 
when  ready  to  emerge  as  flies  a  wonderful  thing  happens. 
The  adult  is  a  gauzy-winged  creature  which  could  not 
stand  immersion  in  water,  yet  it  emerges  below  water  and 
in  this  manner.  The  pupae  take  up  air  from  their  sur- 
roundings, and  as  a  consequence  a  bubble  of  air  collects 
between  the  slipper-shaped  nest  and  the  pupae.  When  the 
fly  emerges,  it  does  so  in  a  bubble  of  air.  Fly  and  bubble 
rise  to  the  surface  and  the  insect  goes  on  its  way  with 
wings  unscathed.  Could  anything  be  more  marvellous  ? 


CHAPTER  VII 
COCOONS,   NESTS  AND  EGGS 

WHAT  would  you  think  of  a  mother  who  used  her  child 
as  a  shuttle  in  weaving  silk  ?  A  peculiar  question  to  ask, 
no  doubt ;  but  the  young  of  certain  ants  are  used  in  this 
manner.  One  of  the  commonest  ants  of  tropical  Africa 
builds  a  nest  of  leaves  fastened  together  by  a  fine  white 
web  resembling  the  finest  silk.  The  leaves  are  fastened 
together  at  their  edges  and  the  ant  community  dwells 
within.  The  method  of  construction  employed  in  these 
leafy  nests  long  remained  a  mystery,  for  no  ant  has  ever 
been  known  to  spin  silk. 

An  observer,  quite  recently,  by  tearing  a  rent  in  one  of 
the  nests,  solved  the  mystery.  When  the  nest  was  damaged, 
some  of  the  workers  defended  the  home,  others  repaired 
the  rent,  and  they  did  so  in  a  peculiar  way,  by  lining  up  in 
a  row  and  seizing  the  edge  of  the  leaf,  on  the  other  side  of 
the  rent,  in  their  jaws,  the  while  they  took  firm  hold  of  the 
nearer  side  with  their  feet.  Then  they  slowly  and  cautiously 
backed,  holding  all  the  time  on  to  the  farther  edge  of  the 
rent,  and  thus  brought  the  two  edges  together.  Next  came 
other  workers  who  cut  away  the  old  silk  web  along  the 
edges  of  the  rent,  carried  the  pieces  to  an  exposed  situation, 
awaited  a  breeze,  then  let  them  float  away  in  the  air. 
After  an  hour's  labour  a  strong  gust  of  wind  tore  the 
edges  of  the  rent  out  of  the  ants'  jaws,  but,  undaunted, 
they  began  again,  and  in  half-an-hour  had  pulled  the 
edges  near  together  again. 

Then  the  most  peculiar  thing  happened.  From  the 
inner  recesses  of  the  nest  countless  workers  ran,  each 
bearing  a  grub  in  its  mouth.  They  climbed  upon  the 
portions  of  the  leaves  which  were  still  held  together  by 

92 


Cocoons,  Nests  and  Eggs 

the  workers  and  used  their  grubs  as  spools  and  shuttles. 
The  larva;  gave  off  a  fine  silk  from  their  mouths,  and  this 
the  ants  used  to  bind  the  edges  of  the  nest  together. 
From  one  side  to  the  other  they  travelled,  placing  the 
grubs'  mouths  against  the  leaf  till  the  silk  had  adhered 
to  the  leaf,  then  they  passed  over  to  the  other  side  and 
repeated  the  process. 

It  must  be  an  interesting  sight  to  watch  these  ants 
building  their  nests.  If  the  leaves  are  large  and  stiff, 
hundreds  of  ants  may  be  required  to  haul  a  leaf  down  and 
hold  it  in  position ;  it  is  quite  a  tug-of-war.  Sometimes 
the  insects  holding  the  leaf  have  a  chain  of  two  or  three 
of  their  comrades  fastened  on  to  them,  one  behind  the 
other,  each  holding  its  neighbour  by  its  slender  waist  and 
all  at  full  stretch  and  pulling  earnestly.  What  a  strain 
for  poor  number  one.  When  the  leaf  edges  are  far  apart 
th,e  ants  form  themselves  into  chains  to  bridge  the  distance 
and  bring  it  down.  "  When  contemplating  the  work  done 
on  these  nests  one  cannot  but  marvel  at  the  wonderful 
ingenuity  displayed,  or  in  endeavouring  to  form  some 
idea  of  the  vast  number  of  grubs  which  must  be  utilised 
to  supply  the  connecting  web  even  for  a  moderately 
sized  nest,  for  with  narrow-leaved  trees  many  scores  of 
leaves  are  required  to  form  a  nest  and  each  must  be 
sewn." 

Of  all  the  ingenious  shelters  for  insects'  eggs,  one  of 
the  most  striking  is  the  curious  raft  constructed  by  the 
silver  water-beetle.  The  mother  beetle  may  often  be  seen 
at  work  in  the  spring  ;  she  clings,  upside  down,  to  some 
water  weed  and  spins  a  concave  sheet  of  silk  which  she 
attaches  to  some  plant  on  which  she  has  taken  up  her 
position.  Then,  reversing  her  position,  she  weaves  a 
similar  silken  sheet  and,  having  done  so,  fixes  the  two 
together  so  that  they  form  a  nearly  spherical  cocoon,  open 
at  one  end.  Inside  this  structure  she  deposits  her  eggs  in 
regular  rows,  suspended  from  its  upper  surface ;  next  she 
closes  the  open  end  of  the  cocoon  and  spins  a  little  spout 

93 


Cocoons,  Nests  and  Eggs 

therefrom,  which  projects  nearly  an  inch  above  the  surface 
of  the  water. 

The  completed  structure,  as  it  floats  on  the  water, 
resembles  a  chemist's  retort,  with  a  narrow  neck  projecting 
into  the  air.  In  this  curious  little  ark  the  larvae  remain 
but  a  short  time  after  they  are  hatched,  before  eating  their 
way  out  to  the  surrounding  water. 

Familiar  as  is  the  common  cockroach,  there  are  many 
people  who  have  never  seen  its  remarkable  red-brown  egg- 
case,  which  resembles  nothing  so  much  as  a  miniature 
snap-purse.  Each  case  contains  sixteen  eggs,  deposited 
in  two  rows,  side  by  side,  in  such  a  manner  that  the  ends 
of  the  eggs,  from  which  the  young  cockroaches  will  hatch, 
all  point  towards  the  opening  of  the  case.  The  horny, 
purse-like  structure  is  kept  closed  at  its  upper  edge  by 
its  natural  elasticity,  so  that  when  the  young  roaches 
hatch  all  they  need  do  is  to  push  their  way  out  of  their 
temporary  hiding-place.  The  mother  roach  displays  the 
greatest  concern  in  seeking  a  suitable  shelter  for  her  egg- 
case.  Case  and  eggs  are  formed  within  her  body,  and 
she  will  sometimes  walk  about  for  days  with  the  egg-case 
partly  protruding  from  her  body,  till  she  finds  a  spot 
where  she  thinks  no  harm  can  come  to  her  precious 
burden,  and  there  she  leaves  it. 

Many  other  insects  protect  their  eggs  by  means  of 
cases  ;  certain  locusts,  for  example,  deposit  their  clusters 
of  eggs  in  holes  in  the  ground,  and  cover  them  with  a 
sticky  substance  which  sets  moderately  hard  and  forms 
a  case  around  them.  The  gadflies  deposit  their  eggs  in 
curious  masses,  and  so  do  the  mantids.  A  mantis  egg- 
case  is  worth  a  moment's  consideration.  In  its  completed 
form  it  is  hard  and  horny,  but  at  the  time  of  its  formation 
it  is  soft  and  spongy.  The  egg-cases  vary  in  size 
according  to  the  species  of  mantis,  but  many  of  them  are 
more  than  an  inch  and  a  half  long.  They  are  usually 
yellowish-green  in  colour,  and  the  eggs  within  are 
arranged  in  regular  rows.  When  the  eggs  are  being 

94 


Cocoons,   Nests  and  Eggs 

deposited  by  the  mother  mantis,  the  future  egg-case  is 
merely  a  mass  of  froth,  but  the  action  of  the  air  causes 
it  to  harden  rapidly.  Curiously  enough,  the  last  eggs  to 
be  laid  are  the  first  to  hatch,  but  all  hatch  within  a  short 
time  of  one  another. 

The  young  mantids,  on  hatching,  push  their  way  out 
of  the  egg-case,  but  do  not  immediately  go  out  into  the 
world.  They  first  of  all  spin  a  silken  thread  from  which 
they  suspend  themselves,  after  the  manner  of  certain 
young  spiders,  till  they  have  shed  their  first  coats.  A 
change  of  raiment  seems  to  embolden  the  little  creatures, 
for  after  their  moult  they  leave  their  nest  and  start  on 
their  nefarious  careers  as  crafty,  bloodthirsty  cannibals, 
not  even  disdaining  their  own  kind,  for  the  female  mantis 
often  devours  her  mate  if  he  becomes  too  pressing  with 
his  attentions. 

The  pernicious  habit  of  hen-pecking  is  not  altogether 
unknown  in  the  insect  world.  We  have  just  mentioned 
the  mantis,  and  there  is  a  large  South  American  water- 
bug  which  is  nearly  as  bad,  though  the  female  does  not 
go  quite  so  far  as  to  eat  her  spouse.  Her  nature  is  more 
utilitarian.  She  makes  him  carry  her  eggs.  Zaitha  is  the 
name  of  this  insect,  and  the  female,  to  rid  herself  of 
maternal  cares,  simply  deposits  her  eggs  on  her  husband's 
back.  He  is  by  no  means  a  willing  nurse,  for  sometimes 
the  couple  will  struggle  an  hour  or  more  before  the 
female  can  accomplish  her  design,  and  then  her  mate 
seems  as  much  out  of  place  as  the  top-hatted  suburban 
father  who  wheels  his  child  about  the  roads  on  a  Sunday 
morning,  the  while  his  wife  prepares  the  midday  meal. 

Miss  Slater,  who  discovered  this  habit  of  the  Zaithas, 
says  :  "  That  the  male  chafes  under  the  burden  is  un- 
mistakable ;  in  fact  my  suspicions  as  to  the  sex  of  the 
egg-carrier  were  first  aroused  by  watching  one  in  an 
aquarium  which  was  trying  to  free  itself  from  its  load  of 
eggs,  an  exhibition  of  a  lack  of  maternal  interest  not  to 
be  expected  in  a  female  carrying  her  own  eggs.  Generally 

95 


Cocoons,   Nests  and   Eggs 

the  Zaithas  are  very  active,  darting  about  with  great 
rapidity  ;  but  an  egg-bearer  remains  quietly  clinging  to 
a  leaf,  with  the  end  of  the  abdomen  just  out  of  the  water. 
If  attacked,  he  meekly  received  the  blows,  seemingly 
preferring  death,  which  in  several  cases  was  the  result,  to 
the  indignity  of  carrying  and  caring  for  the  eggs." 

So  diverse  are  the  forms  of  insects,  so  varied  their  ways, 
that  it  is  hardly  surprising  to  learn  that  their  eggs  assume 
all  manner  of  shapes  and  sizes.  They  are  rarely  laid 
singly ;  sometimes  groups  of  two  or  three  are  laid  by 
certain  insects,  for  instance,  the  solitary  wasps.  Usually 
the  egg-clusters  contain  about  one  hundred  eggs,  and  in 
exceptional  cases — i.e.  the  social  insects — each  mother  pro- 
duces hundreds  of  thousands  of  eggs.  They  vary  from 
the  large  seed-like  eggs  of  the  stick  insects  to  the  glass- 
like  transparent  eggs  of  certain  butterflies.  Again,  they 
are  arranged  in  every  conceivable  way  by  the  female 
insect ;  some  are  simply  allowed  to  fall  anywhere  without 
any  provision  for  their  welfare  on  the  part  of  the  mother. 
This  is  the  case  with  the  stick  insects.  Their  seed-like 
eggs  are  simply  allowed  to  fall  to  the  ground,  and  they 
do  so  with  such  effect  in  certain  districts,  where  the  stick 
insect  is  common,  that  they  sound  like  raindrops  falling 
on  the  undergrowth. 

At  the  other  extreme  is  the  earwig,  an  Australian  saw- 
fly  and  a  wood-boring  beetle,  all  of  which  tend  their  eggs 
till  they  hatch  and  then  mother  their  young.  Midway 
between  the  utter  disregard  for  the  fate  of  her  progeny 
displayed  by  the  mother  stick  insect  and  the  tender  care 
of  the  earwig,  there  are  cases  innumerable  where  the 
mother  insect  makes  every  provision  for  her  young  by 
seeing  to  it  that  her  eggs  are  laid  in  the  most  favourable 
situation  for  their  welfare,  and  even  displaying  consider- 
able ingenuity  in  preparing  suitable  situations  for  these 
eggs.  A  case  in  point  is  afforded  by  a  little  North 
American  stem  sawfly,  which  deposits  its  eggs  in  willow 
twigs,  but  after  the  laying  of  each  egg  the  willow  twig  in 


PRAYING  INSECTS  AND  THEIR  EGG-CASES 

In  the  upper  part  of  the  illustration  a  Mantis  is  shown  with  its  legs  extend  id  in  the  characteristic 
attitude,  suggestive  of  pious  invocation,  from  which  these  inserts  derive  their  name.  The  Mantis  is 
However,  a  wolf  in  sheep  s  clothing,"  for  the  front  legs  are  in  reality  deadly  weapons  by  means  of 


, 
which  other  insects  are  captured  and  killed. 


Cocoons,  Nests  and  Eggs 

which  it  is  deposited  is  girdled,  to  prevent  further  growth 
which  would  assuredly  crush  the  egg.  The  manner  of 
depositing  eggs,  the  situations  in  which  they  are  laid,  and 
the  form  in  which  they  come  into  the  world  are  all  of  the 
greatest  interest. 

As  we  shall  see,  eggs  which  are  destined  for  an  aquatic 
life  are  usually  covered  with  a  layer  of  jelly-like  substance 
after  the  manner  of  frog  spawn.  Eggs  laid  on  a  tree  may 
either  be  on  its  surface,  as  in  the  case  of  the  rings  of  eggs 
deposited  by  the  lackey  moth,  or  actually  in  its  tissues, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  cicada.  Some  eggs,  those  of 
mosquitoes,  float  on  water ;  others,  those  of  lacewings, 
wave  on  stalks  in  the  air ;  some  are  preserved  from  injury 
by  horny  coverings,  others  are  laid  in  great  masses  and 
protected  by  substances  derived  from  the  body  of  the 
mother.  One  thing  is  certain,  the  mother  always  does 
her  best  that  her  labours  may  not  be  in  vain  even  if  she 
omits  to  mother  her  young. 

Some  very  interesting  experiments  have  been  carried 
out  on  this  subject,  of  which  we  can  but  give  the  barest 
outline  here.  Taking  the  common  cabbage-white  butter- 
fly as  our  example :  it  is  well  known  that  this  insect  will 
only  lay  its  eggs  on  cabbages  or  on  closely  related  plants, 
and  with  a  reason — these  plants  and  these  alone  form 
suitable  food  for  the  cabbage-white  larvae.  Now  all  these 
plants  possess  a  substance  which  gives  them  their 
characteristic  odour,  and  this  substance  can  easily  be 
extracted.  Taking  some  of  the  substance  and  smearing 
it  on  a  piece  of  sacking,  cabbage-white  butterflies  were 
easily  persuaded  to  lay  their  eggs  thereon,  despite  the  fact 
that  the  larvae  could  not  possibly  feed  on  sacking.  Similar 
experiments  were  carried  out  with  other  substances  and 
other  insects  with  like  results,  showing  that  the  sense  of 
smell  probably  guides  the  mother  insects  in  their  choice 
of  a  site  for  their  eggs.  Be  that  as  it  may,  it  is  wonderful 
that  the  adult  insects,  which  sip  the  nectar  of  flowers,  should 
know  on  which  plants  they  may  or  may  not  lay  their  eggs. 
G  97 


Cocoons,  Nests  and  Eggs 

Certain  insects'  eggs  cannot  hatch  without  the  aid  of 
some  higher  animal,  aid  which  is  certainly  involuntary, 
seeing  that  the  larvae  from  these  eggs  are  parasitic.  Let 
us  consider  two  totally  dissimilar  cases.  There  is  a  British 
fly,  not  unlike  a  honey-bee  in  appearance  and  known  as 
the  horse  bot-fly.  This  insect  is  an  interesting  though 
obnoxious  pest  to  horses,  in  whose  neighbourhood  it  may 
often  be  seen  flying  on  warm  sunny  days.  Suddenly  the 
fly  will  dart  at  a  horse,  settle  for  an  instant  and  fly  away 
rapidly.  This  operation  will  be  repeated  over  and  over 
again.  Each  time  the  fly  settles  on  the  horse  she  deposits 
a  single  elongated  egg  which  is  so  sticky  at  one  end  that 
it  becomes  attached  to  a  single  hair  of  its  host.  The  eggs 
are  always  attached  on  some  part  of  the  horse  which  may 
easily  be  reached  by  its  tongue,  for  a  reason  we  shall  see 
presently.  The  free  end — that  is,  the  unattached  end — of 
each  egg  is  furnished  with  a  little  lid.  Now  the  presence 
of  these  eggs  irritates  the  horse.  What  then  is  more  natural 
than  that  it  should  lick  the  offending  spot  ?  And  this  is 
precisely  what  the  mother  fly  intended  should  happen. 
The  friction  of  the  animal's  tongue  in  conjunction  with 
its  saliva  causes  the  little  lids  of  the  eggs  to  open,  and  out 
come  the  larvae.  They  pass  into  the  horse's  mouth,  thence 
to  its  stomach,  and  affix  themselves  to  its  wall.  But  that  is 
another  story.  Let  us  turn  to  our  second  example,  which 
is  even  more  curious. 

A  South  American  fly,  or  rather  its  grub,  lives  in  the 
flesh  of  human  beings,  causing  ugly,  suppurating  tumours. 
How  these  grubs  entered  the  flesh  of  their  hosts  long 
remained  a  mystery,  till  a  French  naturalist  solved  the 
riddle.  The  fly  had  never  been  seen  to  lay  its  eggs  on 
a  human  being  or  on  his  clothing,  yet  its  grubs  certainly 
made  a  home  in  his  flesh.  How  came  they  there  ?  The 
capture  of  a  blood-thirsty,  blood-sucking  mosquito,  with 
some  of  the  eggs  of  this  obnoxious  fly  adhering  to  its 
abdomen,  gave  a  clue  to  the  mystery.  Piece  by  piece  the 
evidence  was  constructed,  till  at  length  the  problem  was 


Cocoons,  Nests  and  Eggs 

solved.  The  fly,  it  appears,  was  in  the  habit  of  depositing 
its  elongated  eggs  in  clusters  on  the  leaves  of  a  certain 
plant  frequented  by  the  mosquito.  Now  these  eggs  were 
placed  on  the  leaf  in  a  most  methodical  manner.  The  ends 
from  which  the  grubs  were  destined  to  hatch  were  placed 
on  the  leaf  surface ;  the  ends  which  projected  into  the  air 
were  covered  with  a  sticky  substance. 

When  the  mosquito  came  along  to  disport  itself  on  the 
leaf  the  sticky  ends  of  the  eggs  adhered  to  its  body. 
Before  long  it  is  certain  that  the  mosquito  will  become 
hungry,  and  then  it  will  seek  some  unfortunate  human 
being  to  satisfy  its  craving.  Having  found  its  victim,  it 
loses  no  time  in  puhcturing  his  skin,  but  at  the  same  time, 
probably  called  into  action  by  the  warmth  of  the  human 
body,  or  stimulated  by  perspiration,  the  fly  grubs  beat  a 
hasty  retreat  from  the  eggs.  When  the  mosquito  takes 
its  departure  it  leaves  the  grubs  behind.  They  find  the 
puncture  made  by  the  blood-sucking  mosquito  and,  enter- 
ing, take  up  their  residence  in  the  flesh  of  their  new-found 
host. 

Many  other  insects'  eggs  depend  on  higher  animals  for 
their  welfare.  The  sheep-nostril  fly  lays  its  eggs  on  the 
nostrils  of  sheep,  and  they  hatch  immediately  they  are  laid, 
and  the  grubs  pass  up  the  noses  of  their  hosts,  causing 
them  to  sneeze  in  a  vain  endeavour  to  rid  themselves  of 
the  grubs. 


99 


CHAPTER   VIII 

MIMICRY 

MIMICRY  amongst  animals  may  be  either  aggressive  or 
protective.  Broadly  speaking,  if  an  animal  imitates 
another  on  which  it  preys  for  the  purpose  of  its  more 
ready  capture,  the  mimicry  is  aggressive.  On  the  other 
hand,  an  animal  which  is  harmless  itself,  but  closely 
resembles  a  harmful  creature,  exhibits  protective  mimicry  ; 
for  by  their  imitation  they  are  frequently  preserved  from 
danger.  Cases  of  mimicry,  both  aggressive  and  protective, 
are  common  amongst  insects,  and  from  them  most  of  our 
examples  will  be  taken. 

The  whole  realm  of  nature  cannot  furnish  a  better 
example  of  mimicry,  or  perhaps  resemblance  is  a  more 
fitting  word  in  this  case,  than  is  afforded  by  the  well- 
known  leaf-butterfly  of  India  and  Malaya.  The  upper 
wing  surface  of  this  remarkable  insect  is  brilliant,  nay, 
almost  gaudy.  In  general  colour  it  is  metallic  purplish- 
blue,  and  each  fore-wing  is  marked  with  a  broad  orange 
band  and  two  clear  spots.  But  no  verbal  description  can 
do  justice  to  its  beauty.  In  the  collector's  cabinet  it  is 
a  striking  object ;  in  its  native  haunts  it  must  be  of 
entrancing  beauty.  The  wings  are  of  curious  shape,  and 
not  without  purpose,  as  we  shall  see  presently.  Their 
under  sides  are  dull  reddish-brown,  mottled  with  deep 
brown,  a  striking  contrast  to  the  upper  sides. 

In  the  resting  position  the  wings  are  always  folded, 
close  together,  above  their  bodies,  so  that  nothing  is  visible 
except  their  under  surfaces.  The  tips  of  the  wings  are 
pointed,  the  "tails "are  short  and  blunt;  the  outline  of 
the  folded  wings  bears  a  remarkable  resemblance  to  a  dead 
leaf,  with  the  "  tails  "  forming  the  stalk.  The  resemblance 

100 


Mimicry 

is  heightened  by  a  dark  streak  Which  •  runs  fr6m-wing-tfp 
to  tail,  giving  the  appearance  of  a  midrib.  And  this  is 
not  all.  We  mentioned  that  there  are  clear  spots  on  the 
wings.  In  the  resting  position  these  spots  coincide  with 
one  another  on  the  folded  wings,  so  that  there  appears  to  be 
a  hole  through  them,  just  as  there  might  be  through  an  old, 
damaged  leaf.  Keen  eyes  of  bird  or  man  are  necessary  to 
detect  this  wonderful  mimic  when  it  is  enjoying  a  siesta. 

The  leaf-butterfly  is  not  the  only  insect  with  the  out- 
ward form  of  a  leaf.  There  is  an  African  insect,  closely 
related  to  the  grasshopper,  which  bears  a  remarkable 
resemblance  to  a  green  leaf.  These  creatures  have 
flattened  bodies,  and  their  wing-cases  are  leaf-like  in 
appearance  and  colour,  as  also  are  their  fore  and  middle 
legs.  The  hinder  edges  of  their  wing-cases,  as  they  lie 
touching  one  another  on  the  insects'  backs,  resemble  the 
midrib  of  the  leaf.  The  insects  are  slow-moving  creatures  ; 
in  fact  they  often  remain  for  hours  together  without 
moving,  a  habit  which  renders  their  resemblance  to  green 
leaves  of  the  plants  on  which  they  feed  still  more 
remarkable.  An  entomologist  who  studied  these  freaks 
of  nature  in  the  Seychelles  relates  that  when  food  is 
scarce  "  they  frequently  nibbled  pieces  out  of  one  another, 
just  as  they  might  have  done  out  of  leaves,"  and  that  they 
always  feasted  off  those  parts  which  resembled  leaves. 

Much  better  known  are  the  stick  insects,  also  relatives 
of  the  grasshopper.  These  creatures,  which  may  be 
veritable  insect  giants,  or,  on  the  contrary,  dwarfs,  always 
bear  a  very  striking  resemblance  to  the  stems  of  the 
plants  on  which  they  feed.  They  may  be  winged  or 
wingless  ;  but,  in  the  former  event,  the  wings  are  always 
folded  tightly  to  the  body  so  as  to  heighten  their  general 
resemblance  to  a  stick.  Their  long,  thin  legs  are 
frequently  covered  with  spines,  if  they  happen  to  belong 
to  a  species  which  feeds  on  a  spiny  tree,  or  with  mossy- 
looking  growths,  if  they  frequent  moss-covered  trees. 

Professor  Drummond  naYvely  described  a  stick  insect 

10 1 


Mimicry 

j 

as  follows  :  — u  Take  two  inches  of  dried  yellow  grass  stalk, 
such  as  one  might  pluck  to  run  through  the  stem  of 
a  pipe ;  then  take  six  other  pieces  nearly  as  long  and 
a  quarter  as  thick  ;  bend  each  in  the  middle  at  any  angle 
you  like,  stick  them  in  three  opposite  pairs,  and  again  at 
any  angle  you  like,  upon  the  first  grass  stalk  and  you 
have  my  *  Chirombo '  [native  name  for  the  stick  insect]. 
When  you  catch  him,  his  limbs  are  twisted  at  every  angle, 
as  if  the  whole  were  made  of  one  long  stalk  of  delicate 
grass,  hinged  in  a  dozen  places,  and  then  gently  crushed 
into  a  dishevelled  heap.  Having  once  assumed  a  position, 
by  a  wonderful  instinct  he  never  moves  or  varies  one  of 
his  many  angles  by  half  a  degree.  The  way  the  insect 
keeps  up  the  delusion  is  indeed  almost  as  wonderful  as 
the  mimicry  itself,  and  you  may  turn  him  about  and  over 
and  over,  but  he  is  mere  dried  grass,  and  nothing  will 
induce  him  to  acknowledge  the  animal  kingdom  by  the 
faintest  suspicion  of  spontaneous  movement." 

The  stick  insects  have  their  counterpart  in  this  country. 
Everyone  knows  some,  at  least,  of  the  large  family  of 
"looper"  caterpillars,  the  insects  which  derive  their  name 
from  their  curious  looping  gait,  rendered  necessary  by  the 
fact  that  they  have  legs  at  either  end  of  their  bodies  and 
none  in  the  middle.  There  are  many  species,  but  all  have 
the  same  habit,  which  renders  them  difficult  to  detect  when 
at  rest.  Feeding,  for  the  most  part,  by  night,  when  they 
are  safe  from  the  attacks  of  birds,  they  rest  motionless  by- 
day.  Taking  a  firm  hold  on  some  twig  of  their  food  plant 
with  their  hind  legs,  they  attach  a  fine  thread  of  silk  to 
their  support  and  posture  themselves  in  an  erect  position, 
thus  bearing  a  striking  resemblance  to  a  broken  twig  of 
the  plant  on  which  they  are  resting. 

Brown  caterpillars  select  brown  twigs,  green  ones 
favour  green  twigs,  and,  in  either  event,  are  very  difficult 
to  detect.  The  silken  thread  acts  as  a  stay-rope  and 
takes  a  considerable  amount  of  the  strain  which  the  insect 
would  otherwise  feel  in  its  immobile  periods. 

102 


Mimicry 

Equally  remarkable  are  the  caterpillars  of  the  pine 
beauty  moth,  which  need  no  artifice  to  render  themselves 
inconspicuous  other  than  their  wonderful  protective 
colouring.  Their  favoured  food  consists  of  the  dark 
green,  needle-like  leaves  of  the  pine-tree,  which  are  often 
striped  longitudinally  with  yellowish-white  lines.  The 
caterpillars  are  dark  green  in  colour,  of  such  a  shade  as  to 
exactly  match  the  pine  leaves,  and  on  either  side  of  the 
middle  line  of  their  backs  they  bear  a  white  stripe. 
Away  from  their  food  plant  they  are  very  conspicuous 
creatures.  Even  from  our  description  they  probably  do 
not  appear  much  like  pine-needles  in  colour,  but  the  fact 
remains  that  on  their  food  plant  they  are  wellnigh  in- 
distinguishable. 

It  is  curious  to  note  that  lichen-covered  trees  are  very 
frequently  used  as  resting-places  for  insects  that  desire  to 
escape  detection  on  account  of  their  peculiar  colour  schemes, 
or  shall  we  say  that  many  such  insects  are  so  marked 
as  to  escape  detection  when  resting  on  lichen-covered 
trees?  Instinct,  habit,  call  it  what  you  will,  appears  to 
point  out  the  most  desirable  resting-places  for  each  insect. 
The  common  red  underwing  moth,  whose  fore-wings  are 
mottled  grey,  must  never  be  sought  on  green  leaves 
during  its  daylight  resting  hours,  but  on  some  old 
weather-beaten  fence,  of  such  a  nature  that  the  colours  of 
insect  and  support  harmonise  in  marvellous  manner.  Still 
more  remarkable  is  a  little  Madagascan  beetle  which  not 
only  resembles  the  lichen-covered  trees  on  which  it  lives 
in  colour,  but  to  some  degree  in  form,  for  its  wing-cases 
are  knobbed  all  over  with  little  warty  outgrowths,  which 
still  further  heighten  the  illusion. 

Wonderful  indeed  are  the  devices  employed  by  Nature 
in  moulding  her  children  ;  among  the  most  extraordinary 
are  those  insects  which  resemble  bird  droppings.  There 
are  several  small  moths  which,  with  white,  black-tipped 
wings,  so  closely  resemble  the  excrement  of  birds  that 
detection  by  insect-eating  enemies  is  almost  impossible. 

103 


Mimicry 

A  Javan  species  of  spider,  too,  has  assumed  this  strange 
garb,  not  as  a  means  of  escaping  observation,  but  in  order 
the  more  readily  to  obtain  food.  Unlike  the  majority  of 
spiders,  he  spins  no  web,  but  rests  in  some  exposed  place, 
a  conspicuous  black  and  white,  inert-looking  mass. 
Strange  as  it  may  seem,  some  butterflies  are  given  to 
making  a  meal  of  such  unpleasant  fare  and,  mistaking 
this  spider  for  a  meal,  they  settle  upon  him,  with  disastrous 
results,  for  they  are  immediately  seized  and  thus  provide 
a  meal. 

Let  us  now  turn  to  some  of  the  harmless  insects  which 
resemble  harmful  ones,  or  at  any  rate  insects  well  provided 
with  defensive  organs.  The  common  conception  of  a 
moth  is  an  insect  whose  wings  are  covered  with  scales 
of  such  a  nature  as  to  give  them  a  distinctive  colour. 
Occasionally  there  is  a  circular  patch  or  eye  which  is 
devoid  of  scales  and  thus  forms  a  transparent  spot.  In 
certain  families  there  are  moths  whose  wings  are  almost 
totally  devoid  of  scales,  to  such  an  extent,  at  any  rate, 
that  they  are  popularly  known  as  "  clearwings." 

One  species,  the  hornet  clearwing  moth,  has  its  body 
banded  with  buff  and  orange-yellow,  remarkably  similar 
to  those  of  the  hornet,  which,  in  fact,  it  mimics.  The 
rapid,  nervous  flight  of  these  insects  heightens  the 
illusion,  and  when  they  are  on  the  wing  it  requires  an 
expert  to  distinguish  the  peace-loving  moth  from  the  oft- 
times  aggressive,  formidable  hornet.  Moths,  however, 
are  not  without  rivals  in  their  mimicry. 

A  common  British  beetle  bears  such  a  remarkable 
resemblance  to  the  wasp  that  it  has  earned  the  title  of 
wasp-beetle.  It  is  well  known  that  what  may  be  termed 
the  delicate  flying  wings  of  the  majority  of  beetles  are 
totally  protected,  when  not  in  use,  by  hard  wing-cases. 
In  the  wasp-beetle,  however,  the  wing-cases,  which,  by  the 
way,  are  marked  with  black  and  yellow,  after  the  manner 
of  a  wasp,  are  so  reduced  in  size  that  the  membrane-like 
flying  wings  are  fully  exposed.  This  fact  renders  the 

104 


A   BUCCANEER    FLY,    AND    A    LEAF-RESEMBLING    INSECT. 

Poised  in  the  air,  the  buccaneer  fly  selects  its  victim  from  the  bees  issuing  from  a  hive,  pounces 
on  it  like  a  winged  fury,  and  kills  its  hapless  prey.  The  insect  depicted  beneath  is 
protected  from  its  enemies  by  its  strange  resemblance  to  a  dead  leaf. 


Mimicry 

insect  more  like  a  wasp  than  it  would  be  were  its  wing- 
cases  of  normal  dimensions.  The  likeness  does  not  end 
here,  though  more  careful  observation  is  necessary  to 
detect  the  next  point  of  resemblance.  The  wasp  has 
four  wings,  and  its  hind  and  fore  wings  are  fastened 
together  by  a  series  of  minute  hooks,  invisible  to  the 
naked  eye.  Beetles  have  only  two  wings,  but  the  wasp- 
beetle  has  each  wing  lobed  at  its  hinder  margin  ;  thus  its 
two  wings  appear  extraordinarily  like  the  four  wings  of 
the  wasp. 

Examples  of  mimetic  insects  could  be  quoted  at  length  ; 
some  of  them  have  been  known,  or,  more  correctly  speaking, 
have  been  confused  with  other  insects,  since  Biblical  times. 
The  myth  that  animal  carcases  generate  bees  was  men- 
tioned in  the  story  of  Samson,  in  the  book  of  Judges;  it 
has  held  sway  in  nearly  every  country  the  world  over,  and 
is  perpetuated  as  the  trade  mark  of  a  well-known  brand 
of  golden  syrup,  in  the  form  of  a  drawing  of  a  lion  from 
whose  anatomy  a  number  of  bees  are  issuing.  Now  bees 
do  not  feed  upon  animal  matter.  How  can  the  myth  be 
explained  and  how  has  it  arisen  ?  The  fact  of  the  matter 
is  that  there  is  a  certain  fly,  belonging  to  the  family  of 
hover-flies,  those  perfect  aeronauts  that  may  be  seen 
hovering,  with  wings  vibrating  so  rapidly  that  the  human 
eye  is  quite  incapable  of  following  their  movements,  the 
while  they  are  on  the  look-out  for  their  prey,  the  succulent 
green-fly. 

These  hover-flies  so  closely  resemble  the  honey-bee 
that  they  have  been  named  "  drone-flies."  The  drone-fly 
breeds  in  carcases  or  in  stagnant  water,  so  that  the 
almost  universal  and  absolutely  time-worn  myth  does  not 
require  much  explanation  after  all.  Another  family  of 
flies  mimics  bumble-bees.  The  robber  or  buccaneer  flies, 
as  a  family,  are  strikingly  mimetic.  These  flies  are 
veritable  hawks  of  the  insect  world,  pursuing  and  capturing 
their  prey  on  the  wing,  but  retiring  to  a  nearby  resting- 
place  to  devour  their  victims.  Those  of  one  species 

105 


Mimicry 

closely  resemble  wasps  ;  those  of  another  are  remarkably 
like  bumble-bees,  even  to  the  extent  of  having  thickened 
hind  legs,  like  the  pollen-bearing  members  of  the  bumble- 
bee family.  As  this  modification  is  perfectly  useless  to 
the  fly,  it  simply  amounts  to  a  device  destined  to  add  to 
the  fly's  resemblance  to  a  bee. 

In  another  chapter  we  referred  to  the  leaf-cutting  ants. 
Those  destructive  creatures  march  in  droves  to  some 
favoured  shrub,  and  each  one  nibbles  a  piece  of  leaf  there- 
from before  returning  home.  On  the  homeward  march 
the  booty,  in  the  shape  of  a  snippet  of  green  leaf,  is 
carried  on  high  over  the  insect's  head  and,  an  ant  legion, 
each  member  of  which  bears  a  green  leaf,  presents  a 
curious  spectacle  and  affords  an  opportunity  for  a  very 
striking  example  of  mimicry. 

So  far  all  our  mimetic  insects  have  resembled  a  plant, 
an  insect  or  some  non-living  material ;  but  a  bug  which 
lives  in  the  same  part  of  the  world  as  the  leaf-cutting 
ants  goes  one  better — he  mimics  the  ant  plus  his  leafy 
burden.  This  bug  is  a  curious-looking  creature,  for  on 
his  back  he  bears  a  thin,  flattened  outgrowth,  green  in 
colour,  which  at  a  little  distance  bears  a  very  striking 
resemblance  to  a  piece  of  green  leaf,  and  he  himself  is  not 
unlike  an  ant.  We  may  well  inquire  the  reason  for  this 
so-called  aggressive  mimicry.  If  it  be  of  a  purpose,  as 
some  aver,  it  is  surely  intended  to  help  the  imitator  to 
more  readily  obtain  its  prey ;  for  the  fly  which  resembles 
the  bumble-bee  preys  upon  those  insects  or,  in  other  cases, 
it  assists  the  mimic  to  avoid  its  enemies ;  the  moth  which 
mimics  the  hornet  is  not  nearly  so  likely  to  meet  with  a 
tragic  end  as  a  moth  which  does  not  possess  this  advan- 
tage, for  the  sting  of  the  hornet  is  notorious,  even  among 
the  lower  animals. 

Amongst  insects,  there  are  other  forms  of  protection 
from  their  enemies  which  can  hardly  be  termed  mimicry  or 
even  protective  resemblance;  perhaps  protective  colouring 
would  be  a  better  term.  These  insects  are  all  remarkable 

106 


Mimicry 

for  their  brilliant  hues  ;  so  vivid,  in  fact,  are  they  that  it 
might  be  thought  that  undue  attention  would  be  drawn 
to  the  creatures  so  endowed.  And  this  is  the  case.  To 
be  conspicuous,  in  some  circumstances,  is  an  advantage. 
Most  of  these  brightly  coloured  insects  are  extremely  dis- 
tasteful to  birds  and  other  insect-eating  animals.  Some 
of  them,  the  blister-beetles,  give  off  an  acrid  fluid  when 
they  are  touched  and  accordingly  have  no  enemies  seeking 
to  make  a  meal  of  them. 

A  few  young  birds,  who  have  not  yet  learned  the  ways 
of  the  world,  may  perchance  make  an  attempt  on  the  lives 
of  some  of  these  smartly  liveried  insects,  but  even  birds 
learn  by  experience,  and  the  insect  with  the  garish  coat  is 
usually  protected  by  his  very  gaudiness. 

Again,  certain  insects  are  protected  by  their  having 
hairy  coats.  Few  birds,  except  the  cuckoo,  will  make  a 
meal  of  a  hairy  insect,  however  tempting  he  may  be  in 
other  respects.  In  some  cases  the  hairs  of  insects  are 
irritable  little  poisoned  stilettos,  causing  intense  irritation 
whenever  they  penetrate  the  skin,  which  they  may  easily 
do,  by  reason  of  their  small  size. 

Mimicry  amongst  birds  is  by  no  means  uncommon. 

"  Protective  mimicry  is  well  illustrated  by  the  common 
cuckoo.  This  bird  presents  a  really  striking  resemblance 
to  the  sparrow-hawk,  and  thereby,  it  is  supposed,  it  is 
enabled  to  carry  on  with  ease  its  nefarious  practice  of 
putting  its  young  out  to  nurse.  By  any  small  birds,  such 
as  are  victimised  by  the  cuckoo,  the  sparrow-hawk  is 
greatly  dreaded.  So  disguised  then,  the  male  cuckoo, 
when  its  paramour  is  ready  to  dispose  of  an  egg,  hovers 
over  spots  likely  to  contain  nests  of  the  desired  foster 
parents.  These  threatened,  as  they  suppose,  by  the  bully 
of  the  country-side,  at  once  commence  to  buffet  him,  gaining 
courage,  in  the  defence  of  home,  which  at  other  seasons  of 
the  year  they  cannot  command.  Under  this  attack  the 
pretended  marauder  beats  an  affected  retreat,  followed 
by  his  puny  adversaries.  When  the  pursuit  has  carried 

107 


Mimicry 

away  the  pursuers  sufficiently  far,  the  female  quietly  slips 
up  to  the  nest  and  then  drops  in  her  egg.  On  the  return 
of  the  frightened  birds,  they  either  fail  to  notice  the 
addition  to  the  nest,  or  are  indifferent,  finding  the  eggs 
they  left  still  whole." 

In  Australia  there  is  a  remarkable  case  of  bird 
mimicry.  The  powerful  friar-birds,  which  go  about  in 
flocks,  and  are  therefore  less  likely  to  meet  with  mishap 
than  if  they  lived  alone  or  in  pairs,  are  mimicked  by 
the  harmless,  solitary  orioles,  and  this  is  good  for  the 
orioles.  Hawks  hesitate  to  attack  the  orioles,  for  per- 
chance they  might  be  friar-birds,  and  the  result  of  such  an 
attack  would  be  unpleasant  for  the  hawk.  There  are  many 
other  examples  of  weak  birds  copying  strong  ones.  The 
fork-tailed  cuckoo  of  India  mimics  the  powerful  king- 
crow  ;  another  Eastern  cuckoo,  the  brain-fever  bird,  closely 
resembles  the  Indian  sparrow-hawk ;  a  bulbul  copies  a 
shrike,  and  in  each  case  the  weaker  bird  benefits  by  the 
resemblance,  if  only  to  the  extent  of  misleading  possible 
enemies. 

On  the  other  hand,  very  many  birds  of  prey  mimic 
harmless  birds,  thereby  gaining  an  easier  livelihood  than 
if  they  appeared  in  their  true  colours.  Just  as  the  cuckoos 
commonly  mimic  more  powerful  birds,  so  do  many  of  the 
hawks  mimic  harmless  ones.  An  Indian  hawk,  for  ex- 
ample, closely  resembles  so  typical  a  sea-bird  as  the  tern. 
The  great  skuas,  again,  though  sea-birds,  are  also  birds  of 
prey,  and  curiously  enough  some  of  them  mimic  eagles. 
Why  should  one  bird  of  prey  mimic  another  bird  of  similar 
habits  ?  But  we  are  digressing  into  questions  too  abstruse 
for  a  book  of  this  nature ;  in  fact  the  whole  question  of 
mimicry  in  birds  is  beset  with  difficulties. 


108 


CHAPTER  IX 

GROUND  AND  UNDERGROUND  NESTS 

THERE  is  little  in  the  whole  realm  of  nature  which  evokes 
our  admiration  more  than  the  craftsmanship  of  certain  birds. 
Some,  'tis  true,  making  no  nests,  lay  their  eggs  upon  the 
ground  or  on  some  bare  rock  ;  others  scrape  a  hollow  in 
the  ground,  a  mere  excuse  for  a  nest.  Some  nests,  again, 
are  rough  and  untidy  in  the  extreme,  but  they  only  serve 
to  emphasise  the  good  workmanship  of  the  neater,  more 
ingenious  structures.  The  village  boy  who  carelessly 
destroys  the  hedgerow  nest  rarely  pauses  to  consider  that, 
at  one  stroke,  he  is  utterly  and  often  literally  casting  to 
the  winds  the  result  of  much  effort  and  no  little  skill. 

Of  the  simple,  shall  we  say  primitive,  nests  we  have 
a  large  selection  from  which  to  choose.  Birds  like  the 
penguin  and  the  guillemot  may  safely  be  dubbed  the  least 
skilful  of  artificers  ;  in  fact  they  build  no  nests  at  all,  but 
simply  lay  their  eggs  on  the  bare  rock.  Exactly  how 
and  why  the  guillemot's  eggs  remain  in  their  precarious 
positions  on  the  side  of  some  beetling  cliff  we  shall  relate 
in  our  chapter  on  birds'  eggs.  The  case  of  the  penguin  is 
extraordinary.  Not  only  does  this  bird  omit  to  build  a  nest, 
but  he,  or  she,  uses  his  or  her  feet  as  supports  for  the 
single  egg.  When  about  to  sit,  the  egg  is  rolled  up  on  to 
the  upper  sides  of  the  feet  and  the  sitting  bird  squats  upon 
its  charge.  The  hen  does  most  of  the  sitting,  but  the 
cock  bird  takes  his  turn. 

When  the  change  is  made  from  one  bird  to  the  other, 
it  is  carried  out  with  as  much  ceremonial  as  the  change  of 
guard  outside  a  royal  palace.  The  cock  bows  to  the  hen 
when  about  to  relieve  her,  she  returns  the  compliment ; 
he  then  carefully  scrutinises  his  charge  and  finally  takes 

109 


Ground  and  Underground  Nests 

it  over.  Seven  weeks  is  the  time  required  to  hatch  these 
eggs.  "  One  bird  could  not  sit  on  the  same  egg  for  seven 
weeks.  Incubation  is  carried  out  not  by  one  pair  but  by 
twelve  or  more,  which  stand  about  waiting  for  a  chance 
to  seize  either  a  chicken  or  an  egg,  as  the  post  of  incubator 
becomes  vacant.  Every  adult  male  and  female  has  the 
desire  to  sit  on  something,  therefore  there  is  one  egg  or 
one  chicken  to  ten  or  twelve  adults.  Probably  this  allows 
each  bird  to  obtain  sufficient  food  through  so  long  a  period 
of  incubation. 

"  Not  only  do  barren  females  take  their  turn,  but  males 
also  help.  Every  bird  has  the  same  bare  patch  of  skin 
in  the  middle  line  of  the  lower  part  of  the  abdomen, 
against  which  the  egg  is  closely  held  for  warmth.  Again 
and  again  the  birds,  weighing  anything  up  to  90  lb.,  make 
wild  dashes  to  take  charge  of  any  chicken  that  happens 
to  find  itself  deserted.  The  first  bird  to  seize  the  chicken 
is  hustled  and  worried  on  all  sides  by  the  others  while 
it  rapidly  tries  to  push  the  infant  in  between  its  legs  with 
the  help  of  its  pointed  beak,  shrugging  up  the  loose  skin 
of  the  abdomen  the  while  to  cover  it.  No  great  care  is 
taken  to  save  the  chick  from  injury.  The  chickens  are 
fully  alive  to  the  inconvenience  of  being  fought  for  by 
so  many  clumsy  nurses,  and  they  make  the  best  use  they 
can  of  their  legs  to  avoid  these  attentions,  preferring  to 
freeze  and  starve  rather  than  to  be  nursed.  Half  of 
these  unfortunates  are  killed  by  kindness."  So  wrote 
Dr  E.  A.  Wilson  in  his  Voyage  of  the  Discovery  in  the 
A  ntarctic. 

The  nightjar  is  another  bird  which  disdains  a  nest.  It 
may  make  use  of  some  natural  depression  in  the  ground, 
but  as  for  scratching  one  for  itself,  the  nightjar  would 
never  do  such  a  thing.  The  bare  ground  at  the  foot  of 
a  fir-tree  or  under  some  furze  bush  is  the  favoured  haunt 
of  this  bird. 

The  noddy,  a  species  of  tern,  is  a  fool  of  a  bird,  yet  it 
goes  a  step  further  in  the  nest-building  scale.  Like  the 

no 


Ground  and  Underground  Nests 

guillemot,  the  noddy  favours  some  rocky  ledge,  but  it 
places  seaweed  thereon,  though  it  must  be  confessed  that 
it  displays  no  skill  whatever  in  the  doing  of  it.  Year  after 
year  this  bird  returns  to  the  same  nesting-place  and  each 
season  adds  more  seaweed  to  its  nest ;  in  consequence, 
after  a  few  seasons  it  may  have  accumulated  vegetable 
matter  to  the  thickness  of  a  couple  of  feet. 

Rather  more  ingenuity  is  displayed  by  the  ostrich  and 
its  kind.  The  nest  in  this  case  is  merely  a  hollow 
scratched  in  the  sand  and  as  such  slightly  more  advanced 
architecturally  than  the  nests  we  have  already  mentioned. 
When,  however,  the  ostrich  leaves  its  rude  nest  for  any 
reason,  it  takes  the  precaution  of  covering  its  eggs  with 
sand,  to  conceal  them  from  marauding  animals  on  the 
look-out  for  an  inviting  meal. 

There  is  one  very  curious  habit  of  these  birds  that  is 
worth  mentioning — namely,  the  habit  of  scattering  a  few 
odd  eggs  about  the  nest.  What  exactly  is  the  object  of 
this  peculiar  trait  is  not  very  obvious.  Some  naturalists 
assert  that  these  eggs  are  intended  as  food  for  the  young 
birds  when  they  first  hatch.  Be  that  as  it  may,  the  habit 
is  common  not  only  with  the  ostriches,  but  amongst  the 
closely  related  emus,  cassowaries  and  rheas.  Another 
step  up  the  scale  of  skilful  nest-building  brings  us  to  the 
nests  of  certain  game  birds,  such  as  grouse  and  partridges. 
These,  again,  are  but  hollows  in  the  ground.  However, 
they  are  lined  with  vegetation,  and  a  certain  amount  of 
skill  is  displayed  in  their  construction. 

Let  us  not  run  away  with  the  idea  that  the  ground- 
nesting  birds  are  all  tyros  in  the  art  of  building.  Many 
remarkable  nests  are  built  on  the  ground.  That  great 
winged  sea-bird,  the  albatross,  whose  home  is  on  the  ocean,  to 
whom  a  visit  to  land  is  a  means  to  an  end — the  upbringing 
of  its  young — builds  a  remarkable  mud-encircled  nest. 
Usually,  birds,  being  far-seeing  and  intelligent  creatures, 
build  their  nests  first  and  lay  their  eggs  afterwards.  The 
albatross,  reversing  this  procedure,  lays  its  single  egg  on 

in 


Ground  and  Underground  Nests 

some  bare  rock  and  afterwards  surrounds  it  with  a  rampart 
of  mud  and  seaweed.  Nesting  on  the  islands  of  the 
Southern  Seas  and  displaying  an  absolute  fearlessness  of 
man  during  the  nesting  season,  this  wonderful  bird  is  in 
a  fair  way  to  suffering  extinction,  for,  needless  to  add,  it 
is  slaughtered  indiscriminately. 

The  noddy  is  not  the  only  bird  that  adds  to  its  nest 
year  by  year,  without  taking  the  trouble  to  remove  the 
debris  of  the  previous  season.  The  flamingo  also  has  this 
curious  and  slovenly  habit.  The  newer  nests  of  these 
birds  are  only  a  few  inches  in  height,  the  older  ones  a  foot 
or  more.  The  flamingo  usually  builds  on  marshy  ground 
and  the  birds  breed  not  in  pairs  but  in  great  flocks.  The 
nest  is  constructed  almost  wholly  of  mud,  which  is  scraped 
together  by  the  birds'  beaks  and  patted  into  shape  with 
their  feet.  The  newer  nests  resemble  soup-plates,  being 
circular  in  outline,  with  a  hollow  in  the  centre  for  the 
reception  of  the  eggs ;  the  older  nests  are  conical  mounds 
of  mud,  scooped  out  at  the  top.  A  few  feathers  as  a  lining 
complete  the  structure. 

For  years  an  erroneous  account  of  the  sitting  birds  held 
sway.  It  was  stated  that  the  hens  straddled  their  nests 
when  sitting,  and  many  illustrations  of  flamingos  incubating 
their  nests  in  this  manner  have  appeared  in  natural  history 
books.  More  recent  and  more  reliable  observations  have 
shown  that  the  flamingo  sits  on  its  eggs  in  the  ordinary 
way,  with  its  legs  bent  beneath  it.  It  is  sad  that  these 
pretty  stories  should  be  refuted  ;  still,  there  are  plenty  of 
well-authenticated  facts  in  nature  which  are  more  remark- 
able than  the  inventions  of  some  imaginative  man. 

The  mound-birds  and  brush-turkeys  are  members  of 
a  family  with  peculiar  nesting  habits.  They  lay  their 
eggs  either  in  sand  or  in  large  mounds  composed  of 
decaying  vegetable  matter  and  consign  the  duties  of 
incubation  to  the  rays  of  the  sun  or  to  the  heat  given  off 
by  the  putrifying  herbage.  The  edifices  constructed  by 
these  birds  are  remarkable  for  their  size,  though  the  birds 

112 


PROTECTIVE    MIMICRY 


The  picture  at  the  top  shows  birds  pursuing  butterflies,  while  in  the  one  below  the  same  birds 
have  lost  their  prey,  as  the  butterflies  have  alighted  and  show  only  the  underside  of  their 
wings,  which  are  practically  indistinguishable  from  the  neighbouring  leaves. 


Ground  and  Underground  Nests 

themselves  are  by  no  means  large.  Cartloads  of  material 
are  used  in  building,  and  the  mounds  may  measure  more 
than  one  hundred  feet  in  circumference. 

Wallace,  in  The  Malay  Archipelago,  thus  describes  the 
habits  of  these  birds  :  "  Of  this  rubbish  the  mound-birds 
form  immense  mounds,  often  six  or  eight  feet  high  and 
twenty  or  thirty  feet  in  diameter,  which  they  are  enabled 
to  do  with  comparative  ease  by  means  of  their  large  feet, 
with  which  they  can  grasp  and  throw  backwards  a 
quantity  of  material.  In  the  centre  of  this  mound,  at  a 
depth  of  two  or  three  feet,  the  eggs  are  deposited,  and 
are  hatched  by  the  gentle  heat  produced  by  the  fermenta- 
tion of  the  vegetable  matter  of  the  mound.  When  I  first 
saw  these  mounds,  in  the  island  of  Lombok,  I  could 
hardly  believe  that  they  were  made  by  such  small  birds, 
but  I  afterwards  met  with  them  frequently,  and  have  once 
or  twice  come  upon  the  birds  engaged  in  making  them. 
They  run  a  few  steps  backwards,  grasping  a  quantity  of 
loose  material  in  one  foot,  and  throw  it  a  long  way 
behind  them.  When  once  properly  buried,  the  eggs 
seem  to  be  no  more  cared  for,  the  young  birds  working 
their  way  up  through  the  heap  of  rubbish  and  running 
off  into  the  forest."  This  habit  of  leaving  the  chicks  to 
their  own  devices  is  foreign  to  most  birds,  in  which,  as  a 
class,  the  maternal  instinct  is  very  highly  developed. 

The  Australian  brush-turkey  builds  a  somewhat  similar 
nest.  Like  the  mound-birds,  the  brush-turkeys  make  use 
of  their  feet  for  building  operations.  Their  first  care  is 
to  trace  a  circle  of  large  radius,  and  round  this  they  walk, 
picking  up  leaves,  twigs  and  grass  as  they  go,  and 
throwing  them  to  the  centre  of  the  circle  they  are  de- 
scribing. Narrowing  their  circle  by  degrees,  they  finally 
build  up  a  good-sized  conical  mound.  Having  constructed 
a  framework,  so  to  speak,  they  proceed  to  hollow  out  the 
centre,  and  this  they  do  to  a  depth  of  a  couple  of  feet  or 
more.  In  this  hollow  the  eggs  are  deposited  in.  a  circle, 
with  their  pointed  ends  downwards.  The  eggs  are  then 
H  113 


Ground  and  Underground  Nests 

covered  with  vegetation,  whose  decay,  aided  by  the  sun's 
rays,  completes  the  process  of  incubation. 

Although  the  brush-turkey  eschews  sitting  upon  its 
eggs,  the  male  bird  is  loath  to  leave  them  to  Fortune.  He 
displays  considerable  solicitude  for  his  future  chicks.  By 
some  wonderful  instinct,  he  knows  just  when  the  tempera- 
ture within  the  nest  is  becoming  too  high  or  too  low.  In 
the  former  case,  he  scrapes  off  the  covering  from  above 
the  eggs  and  so  allows  them  to  cool  ;  when  the  tempera- 
ture falls  he  adds  a  covering  of  leaves.  Many  times  a 
day  he  tends  his  eggs  in  this  manner.  Another  Australian 
mound-builder  is  well  provided  for  by  nature.  Termites, 
to  their  undoing,  crowd  round  the  eggs  within  the  mound, 
without,  however,  doing  them  any  harm.  Why  they  should 
do  so  has  not  been  satisfactorily  explained,  but  their 
presence  is  welcomed  by  the  chicks  when  they  hatch,  for 
they  serve  as  the  first  food  of  the  hungry  youngsters. 

The  coot,  the  moorhen  and  the  dabchick  all  build 
nests  which,  to  all  intents,  float  upon  water,  though  the 
moorhen  occasionally  selects  some  spot  near  to,  but  not 
upon,  the  water.  Take  a  stroll  along  the  bank  of  any  tree- 
bordered  stream  and  notice  that  where  the  branches  of 
the  overhanging  trees  touch  the  water  there  are,  here  and 
there,  clumps  of  vegetation,  brought  down  by  the  stream 
and  caught  in  the  branches.  Most  of  these  masses  are 
merely  drift-weed ;  some  may  be  the  nest  of  a  moorhen. 
A  rudely  built  structure  of  grass  and  other  water-side 
plants,  the  nest  of  this  bird  is  frequently  anchored  to 
some  tree  branch,  where  it  dips  into  the  water.  Six  to 
eight  eggs  are  laid  at  a  time,  yet  one  may  pass  nests 
again  and  again  without  seeing  a  sign  of  them,  for  the 
careful  birds  always  cover  them  with  loose  herbage  when 
they  leave  their  nests,  unless  they  are  disturbed  and  com- 
pelled to  leave  in  a  hurry. 

This  habit  of  covering  the  eggs  is  common  among 
water-side  birds.  By  some  the  object  is  thought  to  be  to 
retain  the  warmth  during  the  absence  of  the  mother,  but 

114 


Ground  and  Underground  Nests 

the  more  probable  explanation  is  the  protection  of  the 
eggs.  The  moorhen  chicks,  beautiful  little  balls  of  black 
down,  take  to  the  water  immediately  they  are  hatched, 
for  they  are  able  to  swim  as  well  as  their  mother,  whom 
they  always  accompany  during  their  early  days. 

A  very  pretty  sight  is  often  afforded  by  young  dab- 
chicks  and  their  mother.  The  dabchick  is  a  little  bird, 
her  chicks  are  minute ;  there  is  no  other  word  to  describe 
them.  They  swim  merrily  by  the  side  of  or  near  their 
mother  when  no  danger  threatens,  but,  should  they  be 
alarmed,  they  scuttle  to  her  side  with  all  haste  and  nestle 
'neath  her  outstretched  wings.  Then  she,  for  greater 
safety  closing  her  wings,  dives  below  the  surface  of  the 
water,  taking  her  family  with  her. 

To  anyone  who  has  not  studied  bird  life  it  must  seem 
strange  that  birds,  essentially  creatures  of  the  air,  should 
nest  below  ground.  Curious  as  it  may  seem,  the  fact 
remains  that  a  goodly  number  of  species  are  burrowers  or 
borrowers,  for  some  construct  their  underground  homes, 
others  appropriate  the  burrows  of  other  animals. 

The  early  stages  of  the  burrowing  habit  may  be  seen 
in  the  nests  of  the  black-backed  courser,  a  Nile-frequenting 
bird,  which  buries  its  eggs  in  the  sand  on  the  banks  of 
that  river  and  leaves  them  to  be  hatched  by  the  sun's 
rays.  When  eggs  are  hatched  in  an  incubator  it  is 
necessary  to  sprinkle  them  with  water  from  time  to  time  ; 
the  courser  also  keeps  its  eggs  moist  by  wetting  its  breast 
in  the  river  and  then  squatting  on  the  sand  over  the  spot 
where  its  eggs  are  buried. 

A  slight  advance  on  this  crude  nest  is  shown  by  one 
of  the  mound-builders,  a  bird  which  belies  its  name,  for, 
instead  of  building  a  mound,  it  burrows  obliquely  into 
the  sand,  for  three  feet  or  more,  and  there  deposits  its 
eggs.  Having  done  so,  it  comes  to  the  surface,  covers  the 
entrance  to  the  burrow,  and  leaves  the  rest  to  chance  and 
the  sun. 

The  kiwi,  a  New  Zealand  bird,  and  one  of  Nature's 


Ground  and   Underground  Nests 

riddles,  is  a  burrower.  This  creature,  with  its  hair-like 
feathers,  its  nostrils  at  the  end  of  its  long,  curved  beak, 
instead  of  at  the  base  as  with  other  birds,  and  its 
apparently  wingless,  tailless  body,  though  not  uncommon, 
is  rarely  seen,  for  it  is  shy  and  a  night  bird.  By  day  it 
hides  in  its  burrow,  a  short  tunnel  ending  in  a  chamber 
lined  with  fern  leaves.  In  this  chamber  the  hen  deposits 
her  egg,  which  is  remarkable  for  its  size,  being  one  quarter 
the  weight  of  the  bird  that  laid  it.  No  bird  living  lays  a 
larger  egg  for  its  size.  The  kiwi  is  probably  possessed 
of  a  keen  sense  of  smell,  for  it  has  a  habit  of  probing  moist 
ground  with  its  long  bill  and  sniffing  out  luscious  worms 
on  which  to  make  a  meal. 

There  are  many  burrowing  birds  in  Britain.  The  sand- 
martin  is  one  of  the  best  known  and  is,  moreover,  one  of 
the  most  expert  burrowers  the  world  over.  In  the 
selection  of  a  site  for  its  nest  the  bird  displays  excellent 
judgment.  Soil  that  is  easily  worked  is  preferred  to  that 
of  a  harder  nature  ;  but  there  is  one  essential,  the  ground 
in  which  the  tunnels  are  made  must  be  of  a  nature  that 
there  is  no  fear  of  the  walls  of  the  excavation  falling  in. 
Should  suitable  soft  soil  not  be  available,  this  little  bird, 
with  the  fragile  beak,  will  not  eschew  sandstone. 

A  convenient  sandy  cliff  is  the  site  usually  chosen,  and, 
clinging  thereto,  the  martin  sounds  the  surface,  by  tapping 
with  its  beak,  till  it  finds  the  ideal  spot  for  its  purpose. 
The  little  bird  is  a  clever  engineer.  Clinging  to  the  face 
of  the  cliff  with  its  feet,  it  works  in  a  circle,  chipping 
pieces  of  soil  or  rock  away  with  its  beak.  The  actual 
burrow  is  inclined  slightly  upwards,  and  in  working  thus 
the  bird  displays  its  wisdom,  for  thereby  rain  is  prevented 
from  reaching  the  nest  within.  For  a  couple  of  feet  or 
more  the  work  of  excavation  is  continued  ;  soil  is  broken 
by  the  bird's  beak  and  thrown  out  of  the  tunnel  by  its 
feet.  Unless  the  luckless  little  engineer  should  encounter 
a  rock  or  tree  root  during  its  labours,  the  work  is  rapidly 
completed.  Should  an  obstruction  be  encountered,  either 

116 


Ground  and  Underground  Nests 

the  work  is  abandoned,  or  the  bird  deviates  from  its  usual 
straight  course  in  order  to  avoid  the  obstacle.  The 
burrow  completed,  a  chamber  is  made  at  the  terminus,  and 
in  the  chamber  a  nest  of  dried  grass  and  feathers  is  built. 
As  the  sand-martins  always  live  in  colonies,  a  favoured 
cliff  is  very  soon  riddled  by  their  nest-holes.  They  seem 
to  live  happy,  care-free  lives,  for,  by  the  nature  of  their 
nesting  habits,  they  are  well  protected  from  all  enemies, 
except  the  marauding  schoolboy. 

An  occasional  visitor  to  our  shores,  with  nesting  habits 
similar  to  those  of  the  sand-martin  and  gorgeous  plumage 
which  compares  favourably  with  that  of  any  tropical  bird, 
is  the  bee-eater.  About  the  size  of  a  thrush  and  not  so 
heavily  built,  the  bee-eater  is  a  veritable  living  rainbow. 
Green,  blue,  yellow,  orange,  brown,  white  and  metallic 
black  are  the  colours  which,  harmoniously  arranged  and 
displayed  to  advantage  during  the  bird's  elegant  flight, 
render  it  "almost  top  beautiful  to  belong  to  this  world." 
The  colours  of  its  exquisite  plumage  vary  as  the  light 
strikes  them  at  different  angles.  So  gorgeously  arrayed  is 
the  bee-eater  that  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  add  that  it 
is  in  great  request  as  a  trimming  for  ladies'  hats. 

Like  the  sand-martin,  this  bird  lives  in  colonies,  and  its 
burrows  are  always  excavated  in  the  side  of  a  cliff. 
Fragile  as  is  its  beak,  it  is  yet  strong  enough  to  tunnel 
into  soft  soil.  As  an  engineer  it  compares  unfavourably 
with  the  sand-martin.  Its  burrow  rarely  exceeds  a  foot 
in  length,  so  that  the  sitting  bird  is  plainly  visible  from 
the  outside.  Moss  is  the  material  of  which  the  nest  is 
composed,  if  the  structure  deserves  the  name  of  nest,  for 
it  is  little  more  than  a  clump  of  moss  on  which  the  pearly 
white  eggs  are  laid. 

Our  most  richly  apparelled  native  bird  is  undoubtedly 
the  kingfisher.  Though  quite  common  in  all  parts  of  the 
country,  he  is  not  so  frequently  seen  as  might  be  expected. 
Despite  his  gorgeous  coat,  he  harmonises  so  well  with  his 
surroundings  that,  when  at  rest,  only  the  experienced  eye 

117 


Ground  and  Underground  Nests 

can  detect  his  presence.  As  he  flies  down-stream,  a  streak 
of  exquisite  azure,  he  is  remarkably  conspicuous.  It  is  sad 
to  relate  that  this  beautiful  bird  and  its  nest  are  possessed 
of  an  odour  which  is  wellnigh  overpowering,  as  we  shall 
relate  in  a  moment. 

Selecting  some  spot  on  the  bank  of  a  stream  where  fish 
are  plentiful,  the  kingfisher  excavates  a  hole  in  leisurely 
manner :  a  month  is  often  expended  in  this  engineering 
feat.  The  entrance  to  the  tunnel  is  always  kept  small,  so 
small,  indeed,  that  one  marvels  how  the  bird  can  enter. 
The  tunnel  itself  is  often  of  a  tortuous  nature,  to  avoid 
tree  roots  and  other  obstacles,  but  it  always  inclines 
gently  upwards,  so  that  a  rise  of  a  few  inches  in  the  level 
of  the  stream  will  not  flood  the  nest.  At  the  end  of  the 
tunnel,  usually  about  two  feet  from  the  entrance,  a  low, 
broad  chamber  is  made,  and  here  the  nest  is  constructed. 
And  curious  indeed  is  this  nest,  being  constructed  of  dry 
fish  bones,  those  of  minnows  for  the  most  part. 

Certain  birds,  whose  food  consists  of  boned  animals,  are 
in  the  habit  of  disgorging  the  bones  of  their  prey  after 
they  have  digested  the  softer  parts.  The  kingfisher  is  one 
of  these  birds,  and  it  is  from  the  bones  of  these  ejected 
food  pellets  that  the  nest  is  built. 

As  may  be  supposed,  the  nest  is  of  the  most  fragile 
description,  and  it  was  years  after  the  nesting  habits  of 
this  bird  were  fully  understood  before  a  complete  nest 
was  brought  to  light.  Sometimes  the  remains  of  dragon- 
flies'  wings  may  be  found  amongst  the  bones  comprising 
the  nest,  a  sign  that  the  eggs  have  been  hatched,  for  it  is 
upon  these  insects  that  the  young  kingfishers  are  fed. 
Little  wonder  that  the  haunt  of  the  kingfisher  may  be 
easily  detected  by  its  smell.  The  decaying  flesh  on  the  fish 
bones  and  the  excrement  of  the  fish-eating  birds  combine 
to  produce  an  odour  which  is  beyond  human  endurance. 
The  nest,  the  tunnel,  the  bird  itself,  reek  of  putrid  fish. 

Many  birds  nest  in  burrows  but  are  not  true  burrowers, 
for  the  reason  that  they  take  advantage  of  some  other 

118 


Ground  and  Underground  Nests 

animal's  industry  and  appropriate  its  home.  Midway 
between  the  burrow-makers  and  the  burrow-stealers  there 
are  a  few  birds  which  will  do  their  own  excavation  if  they 
are  unable  to  make  use  of  a  ready-made  home. 

Of  these  birds  on  the  border  line,  the  puffin  is  perhaps 
the  best  known.  This  almost  parrot-like  sea-bird,  with 
its  powerful,  many-hued  beak,  is  an  ardent  tunneller  when 
once  it  makes  a  start.  The  male  undertakes  most  of  the 
work,  and  so  intent  does  he  become  upon  his  labours  that 
it  is  possible  to  capture  him  without  difficulty  while  he  is 
plying  his  beak  to  good  effect  in  the  soft  soil.  For  some 
reasonthe  puffin's  burrowis  curved;  moreover, it  isextensive, 
usually  being  three  feet  or  more  in  length,  and  it  is  pro- 
vided with  a  second  exit,  in  case  the  arrival  of  some  enemy 
should  make  a  hasty  retreat  imperative.  Industrious  as 
a  burrower,  the  puffin  is  no  nest-builder,  for  the  single 
white  egg  is  simply  deposited  on  the  soil  at  the  termina- 
tion of  the  burrow. 

We  must  not  dwell  too  long  with  these  ground- 
burrowers ;  there  are  so  many  that  space  precludes  the 
mention  of  them  all.  The  stormy  petrel  nests  in  burrows  ; 
the  sheldrake  and  stockdove  do  so  too  ;  even  the  jackdaw, 
failing  a  better  nesting  site,  will  take  possession  of  a 
deserted  rabbit-hole. 

Let  us  give  a  little  attention  now  to  those  birds  which 
nest  in  holes  but  not  in  the  ground,  the  tunnellers  as 
distinguished  from  the  burrowers  of  the  bird  world.  In 
Britain  we  have  excellent  examples  of  such  birds  in  the 
shape  of  the  woodpeckers.  Of  wood-working  birds,  the 
world  over,  there  are  none  to  compare  in  neatness  of  crafts- 
manship with  the  woodpeckers.  The  entrances  to  their 
nests  are  always  so  truly  and  well  constructed  that  they 
might  have  been  made  by  a  carpenter  with  a  large  brace 
and  bit. 

The  woodpeckers  are  admirably  built  for  the  work  they 
undertake.  Their  beaks  are  straight  and  strong ;  their 
feet,  with  two  toes  pointing  forwards  and  two  backwards, 

119 


Ground  and  Underground  Nests 

enable  them  to  cling  tenaciously  to  tr*e  bark  of  any  tree, 
and  the  stiff  quills  of  the  tail  feathersf/when  pressed  against 
the  tree,  lend  the  bird  additional  support.  When  on  nest- 
building  bent,  the  first  care  of  the  woodpecker  is  to  find 
wood  in  suitable  condition  to  be  bored.  Tapping  the  tree 
here  and  there  with  their  beaks,  their  search  is  rewarded 
ere  long  by  the  discovery  of  what  they  look  for. 

Preferably  a  spot  is  chosen  where  some  fungus  has  done 
its  deadly  work  of  killing  the  tissues  of  the  tree  or,  maybe, 
the  end  of  a  broken  branch  where  the  wood  is  already  well 
rotted  by  the  rain.  In  any  event,  it  is  the  object  of  the 
birds  to  find  a  patch  of  decayed  or  partially  decayed 
wood.  Having  done  so,  the  actual  engineering  work  begins. 
Taking  firm  hold  of  the  bark  with  its  feet,  supporting  itself 
by  its  stiff  tail  feathers,  the  bird  plies  its  sharp  beak  in 
pickaxe  fashion  against  the  already  softened  wood.  In 
an  incredibly  short  time  a  perfectly  circular  hole  is  made, 
also  a  horizontal  tunnel  of  a  few  inches  in  length.  At  the 
end  of  this  short  tunnel  the  bird  works  directly  downwards 
and  hollows  out  a  flask-shaped  cavity  in  the  tree.  At  the 
bottom  of  the  cavity  there  is  a  collection  of  wood  chips 
and  shavings,  and  on  these  the  snow-white  eggs  are  laid. 
Powerful  a  bird  as  the  woodpecker  is,  often  and  often  it 
completes  its  labours  only  to  find  that  its  place  is  usurped 
by  the  diminutive  wren,  who  simply  turns  out  the  rightful 
owner  and  takes  possession  of  the  nest. 

Far  more  interesting  are  the  hornbills,  though,  as 
craftsmen,  they  cannot  approach  the  woodpeckers.  They 
are  natives  of  the  tropics  of  the  Old  World.  They  are 
called  hornbills  because  of  their  enormously  developed 
beaks,  which  are  of  various  weird  shapes,  according  to  the 
species.  So  dreadfully  out  of  proportion  do  those  beaks 
appear  in  some  species  that  it  seems  that  their  owners 
must  be  sadly  hampered  by  so  heavy  a  load  ;  but,  as  a 
fact,  though  of  so  unwieldy  proportions,  and  enormously 
strong,  their  beaks  are  fairly  light. 

The  hornbills  have  curious  and  wonderful  nesting  habits. 

120 


A  WILLING  PRISONER 

A  .hornbill  constructing  a  mud  wall  to  protect  his  partner  while  she  is  sitting.     When  the 
wall  is  finished,  the  entrance  to  the  nest  is  only  just  large  enough  for  the  hen  bi 
out  her  bill  and  receive  the  food  which  is  brought  by  her  attentive  mate. 


Ground  and  Underground  Nests 

The  duties  of  incubation  are  carried  out  by  the  hen  bird, 
who  places  herself  in  voluntary  confinement,  whilst  the 
male  feeds  her  and  her  chick  during  the  whole  period. 
Possession  is  taken  of  a  roomy  hole  in  a  tree,  high  from 
the  ground  ;  in  this  cavity  the  single  egg  is  laid.  As  soon 
as  the  hen  commences  sitting,  her  mate  assiduously  walls 
her  in,  leaving  only  a  very  small  hole  through  which  he 
may  pass  food. 

Exactly  the  nature  of  the  building  material  used  by  the 
hornbills  seems  open  to  doubt.  Some  say  clay  is  used  ; 
others  a  secretion  of  the  saliva  mixed  with  fragments  of 
fruit ;  others,  again,  have  found  the  skeletons  of  centipedes 
in  large  numbers  in  the  material.  The  broad,  flat  beaks  of 
the  birds  are  used  after  the  manner  of  a  mason's  trowel, 
and  it  is  said  that  the  hen  lends  a  hand,  or  rather  a  beak, 
in  walling  herself  up.  The  heat  of  the  tropical  sun 
soon  dries  the  material  used  in  the  masonry  and  it  sets 
almost  as  hard  as  granite,  so  that  escape  for  the  hen  is 
impossible. 

From  this  time  onwards  the  male  hornbill  acts  as  a  dutiful 
husband  should.  He  is  unremitting  in  his  attentions  on  his 
wife,  searching  the  district  far  and  wide  for  the  daintiest 
morsels  on  which  to  feed  her.  Without  his  aid  she  would 
certainly  starve.  But  though  the  male  is  in  possession  of 
his  freedom,  he  is  the  one  to  starve  as  a  rule,  for  he  is  so 
solicitous  of  his  mate  that  he  appears  to  forget  that  food 
is  necessary  for  himself.  The  food  is  passed  to  the  hen  in 
the  form  of  a  bolus  enclosed  in  a  coat  derived  from  his 
own  gizzard,  so  it  is  said.  Other  observers  state  that  the 
hen's  fare  is  divided  into  courses  consisting  of  fruit  and 
other  vegetable  food,  insects,  mice  and  reptiles. 

By  the  time  incubation  is  complete  the  enforced  captivity 
and  lack  of  exercise,  combined  with  excellent  and  abundant 
fare,  makes  the  hen  decidedly  fat.  The  poor  male  bird,  on 
the  other  hand,  is  often  reduced  to  a  mere  skeleton  ;  in  fact 
he  frequently  dies  of  starvation.  The  precise  meaning  of 
the  incarceration  of  the  hen  is  open  to  some  doubt,  but 

121 


Ground  and  Underground  Nests 

probably  it  is  merely  as  a  protection  against  marauding 
monkeys  and  reptiles. 

Another  theory  is  that  it  affords  protection  to  the  hen 
during  her  moult,  for  she  moults  while  sitting ;  but,  as  a 
well-known  naturalist  says,  this  explanation  seems  "  neither 
logical  nor  plausible."  There  are  certain  tunnellers  which, 
like  the  burrowers,  take  possession  of  ready-made  holes. 
The  starling,  robin,  wryneck  and  certain  titmice  are  cases 
in  point. 


122 


CHAPTER   X 

NESTS   IN   TREES 

THERE  is  far  greater  variety  amongst  the  nests  built  in 
trees  than  amongst  those  built  on  or  under  the  ground. 
There  are  great  differences  of  position,  in  material  and, 
most  important  from  our  point  of  view,  in  craftsmanship. 
In  size,  too,  nests  vary  remarkably,  from  the  nest  of  the 
tiny  humming-bird,  no  larger  than  a  thimble,  to  the  six- 
foot-diameter  nest  of  the  hammer-head.  In  point  of  size 
the  nests  of  the  humming-birds  are  the  smallest  of  all  by 
far.  Usually  they  are  composed  of  vegetable  down  and 
the  finest  of  fibres,  and  they  are  ornamented  on  the  outside 
with  lichen,  to  render  them  as  inconspicuous  as  possible. 

The  situation  in  which  these  nests  are  placed  are  as 
varied  as  their  shapes.  A  favourite  position  is  the  extreme 
tip  of  some  leaf.  Whatever  the  situation,  however,  one 
substance  appears  to  be  used  by  all  humming-birds  to 
attach  their  nests  to  their  supports,  and  the  substance  is 
the  web  of  a  spider.  Spiders'  sheet  webs  are  mingled 
with  moss  and  other  vegetation  to  form  a  compact,  close- 
knit  felt  for  the  body  of  the  nest,  and  spiders'  orb  webs 
are  used  to  bind  the  nests  to  leaves,  branches,  the  faces  of 
rocks,  etc.,  as  the  case  may  be. 

One  species  of  these  little  birds  evidently  takes  a 
delight  in  its  architectural  work  ;  perhaps  they  all  do  so, 
but  they  are  not  given  to  building  more  than  they  can 
help,  as  a  rule.  Well,  the  humming-bird  we  were  about 
to  mention  lays  eggs  about  the  size  of  an  ordinary  boot- 
button,  yet  it  builds  a  nest  nearly  the  size  of  a  football, 
with  a  tiny  cavity  at  the  top  for  the  eggs.  These  large 
though  frail  nests,  suspended  from  the  stem  of  some 
climbing  plant,  are  sometimes  found  to  be  ill  balanced 

123 


Nests  in  Trees 

when  they  are  completed.  Such  a  state  of  affairs  would 
be  fatal  to  the  safety  of  the  eggs,  but  the  little  architect 
is  fully  equal  to  the  occasion.  No,  it  does  not  build  its 
nest  anew,  but  daubs  mud  or  even  weaves  small  pebbles 
into  the  nest  fabric  in  sufficient  quantity  to  restore 
equilibrium. 

The  nest  of  one  of  our  British  birds,  the  chaffinch,  is 
strongly  reminiscent  of  the  architecture  of  the  humming- 
birds. A  clumsy  structure  maybe  compared  to  a  humming- 
bird's nest  is  that  of  the  chaffinch,  yet  for  deftness  of 
working  and  in  neatness  there  is  no  bird  anywhere  to 
beat  the  "  storm-bird,"  as  the  chaffinch  is  called  in  some 
parts  of  the  country.  The  bird  always  selects  a  spot 
which  offers  a  firm  foundation  for  its  nest,  such  as  the 
point  where  several  branches  issue  close  together  from  a 
tree  trunk.  Wool  is  the  chief  component  of  the  structure, 
but  the  wool  is  so  deftly  woven  with  moss,  thistle-down, 
and  spiders'  webs  that  the  whole  forms  a  felt  of  remark- 
able firmness  and  elasticity.  In  fact  the  chaffinch's  nest 
may  often  be  pressed  almost  perfectly  flat,  yet  it  will 
regain  its  normal  shape  when  the  pressure  is  removed. 

The  outside  of  the  nest  is  always  decked  with  some 
substance  which  harmonises  with  its  surroundings  and 
renders  it  very  inconspicuous  ;  so  well,  in  fact,  does  the 
little  bird  accomplish  its  object  that  its  nest  is  never  easy 
to  find.  The  variability  of  external  building  material  is 
the  most  remarkable  fact  about  the  chaffinch's  nest.  "  A 
nest  built  in  a  dead  gorse  bush  had  the  outside  garnished 
with  little  pieces  of  decayed  wood  to  imitate  the  brown 
foliage  and  withered  blooms  of  the  bush  ;  a  nest  on  the 
lichen-covered  branch  of  a  birch-tree  was  studded  so 
thickly  with  bits  of  lichens,  attached  by  spiders'  webs, 
as  to  resemble  a  knotted  prominence  of  the  birch  itself; 
lastly,  a  nest  composed  externally  of  the  greenest  of 
mosses,  bespangled  with  small  bits  of  white  paper,  was 
built  in  a  whitethorn  in  full  flower,  and  it  resembled  most 
closely  an  exceptionally  handsome  bunch  of  bloom." 

124 


Nests  in  Trees 

The  lining  of  the  nest  is  in  itself  a  work  of  art :  hair — 
cow's  hair  for  choice — is  arranged  round  the  bowl  of  the 
nest  with  almost  mathematical  precision.  Perhaps  one 
or  two  birds  can  rival  the  chaffinch  as  architects — its  near 
relative,  the  goldfinch,  runs  it  close — but  none  can  surpass 
it.  The  nest  of  the  goldfinch  is  not  unlike  that  of  the 
chaffinch,  but  it  is  usually  placed  near  the  end  of  a  branch 
and,  in  this  position,  is  subjected  to  considerable  shocks 
during  a  wind.  The  goldfinch  provides  for  such  a  con- 
tingency by  curling  the  edges  of  its  nest  inwards,  so  that 
the  eggs  are  in  no  danger  of  falling  out. 

The  long-tailed  tit  runs  the  chaffinch  very  close  as  a 
nest-builder.  Both  birds  use  practically  the  same  materials 
and  both  are  equally  adept  in  the  arts  of  concealment. 
But  whereas  the  chaffinch  builds  a  cup-shaped  nest,  that 
of  the  long-tailed  tit  is  domed  ;  in  fact,  in  size  and  shape 
it  resembles  nothing  so  much  as  a  large-sized  cricket  ball, 
with  a  hole  at  one  side  for  entrance  and  exit.  Often  the 
nest  is  more  oval  than  round,  and  sometimes  even  it  is 
flask-shaped.  Again,  nests  have  been  found  with  two 
holes,  and  one  is  recorded  with  a  little  flap  over  the 
entrance  to  act  as  a  door,  which  the  birds  must  needs 
open  and  shut  each  time  they  visit  the  nest.  The  interior 
of  this  ingenious  structure  is  always  luxuriously  upholstered 
with  downy  feathers  in  such  quantity  that  the  eggs 
literally  lie  in  rather  than  on  them. 

The  golden  oriole,  which  is  unfortunate  in  being  per- 
secuted for  its  brilliant  plumage  and  for  its  tasty  flesh, 
which  is  considered  a  delicacy,  has  somewhat  peculiar, 
though  by  no  means  unique,  nesting  habits.  The  first- 
made  nest  of  this  bird  is  a  shallow  structure  of  grasses 
interwoven  with  wool,  and  is  usually  placed  near  the  end 
of  a  branch.  Should  good  weather  favour  the  birds 
during  the  nesting  season,  the  nest  will  be  left  in  its 
original  shallow  state  ;  but  in  stormy  weather  the  eggs, 
having  no  inverted  nest  edge  to  save  them  as  in  the 
goldfinch's  building,  must  be  protected  from  risk  of  falling 

125 


Nests  in  Trees 

out.  The  wise  oriole  simply  deepens  its  nest,  with  the 
result  that  the  eggs  are  placed  once  more  in  safety.  One 
of  the  golden  oriole's  discarded  nests  at  the  end  of  the 
season  affords  a  sure  indication  of  the  state  of  the  weather 
during  the  previous  weeks. 

We  have  lauded  the  work  of  the  chaffinch  as  a  model 
of  delicate  craftsmanship.  At  the  other  extreme  we  may 
safely  place  the  work  of  the  branch-building  pigeons,  the 
ring-dove  and  the  turtle-dove,  for  their  efforts  hardly 
deserve  the  name  of  nest.  The  ring-dove  usually  selects 
a  fir-tree  for  her  nest.  On  a  suitable  spray  of  leaves  she 
places  a  few  long  twigs  in  irregular  fashion,  followed  by  a 
few  shorter  twigs  laid  anyhow,  the  whole  forming  a  mere 
flimsy,  flat  platform.  The  eggs  deposited  on  this  plat- 
form may  easily  be  seen  from  the  ground  below.  One 
might  wonder  how  in  the  world  the  young  ones  are 
prevented  from  falling  to  earth,  and  it  happens  in  this 
manner.  With  most  birds  the  chief  care,  or  one  of  them, 
is  to  keep  their  nests  clean.  With  the  ring-dove  the  case  is 
different,  and  the  droppings  of  the  young  quickly  form  a 
cement  which  binds  the  twigs  together  into  a  solid  mass 
through  which  there  is  no  fear  of  anything  falling. 

The  magpie  builds  a  domed  nest,  though  one  quite 
distinct  from  the  natty  little  abode  of  the  long-tailed  tit ; 
it  is  as  large  as  the  tit's  is  small,  as  rough  as  the  other  is 
dainty.  Despite  its  unkempt  appearance,  it  serves  its 
purpose  admirably,  and  is  by  no  means  easy  to  detect, 
being  always  placed  in  the  upper  branches  of  some  high 
tree,  where  it  bears  a  striking  resemblance  to  the  natural 
outgrowth  of  the  tree.  A  strong  foundation  is  the  first 
care  of  the  magpie  architect.  This  is  always  composed  of 
sticks  cemented  together  with  mud  ;  not  only  so,  but  a 
thick  layer  of  mud  is  placed  atop  of  this.  Above  this 
substantial  groundwork  a  number  of  sticks,  usually  those 
with  formidable  thorns,  are  arranged  to  form  a  dome. 
The  nest  is  completed  by  a  lining  of  root  fibres  on  the 
floor  to  receive  the  eggs.  Exactly  why  the  magpie 

126 


Nests  in  Trees 

should  be  so  partial  to  thorns  for  the  construction  of  its 
nest  is  hard  to  say.  Perhaps  they  are  placed  there  to 
chastise  likely  egg-stealers,  including  schoolboys. 

A  nest  which  deserves  a  place  in  any  discussion  of  bird 
architecture  is  that  of  the  social  weaver-birds  or  gros- 
beaks. As  their  name  indicates,  these  birds  live  to- 
gether in  flocks  and  have  developed  the  social  habit  to 
a  degree  that  is  rare  among  birds,  to  such  a  point,  in  fact, 
that  many  individuals  construct  a  common  nest,  or,  to 
be  more  exact,  they  live  in  separate  compartments  under 
one  roof.  The  entire  edifice  resembles  nothing  so  much 
as  an  enormous  umbrella.  Sometimes  it  contains  more 
than  a  cartload  of  grass,  and  over  three  hundred  and 
twenty  nests  have  been  counted  under  a  single  shelter, 
each  one  containing  a  pair  of  birds  bringing  up  four  or 
five  youngsters.  The  nests  are  built  of  a  plant  known  as 
bushman  grass,  and  they  are  always  constructed  in  the 
branches  of  the  camel-thorn  acacia. 

In  the  beginning,  a  single  pair  of  birds  build  their  nest, 
by  hanging  the  leaves  of  the  bushman  grass  on  a  suitable 
branch,  and  weaving  and  plaiting  it  till  it  forms  a  roof. 
Beneath  this  roof  the  actual  nest  is  built.  Other  sociable 
weaver-birds  join  in  the  enterprise,  and  the  edifice  grows 
by  degrees  till  it  looks  like  "  a  mass  of  grass  pierced  by 
numerous  holes,"  each  hole  being  the  entrance  to  a  nest. 
At  the  end  of  the  season,  of  course,  the  old  nests  are 
abandoned.  When  Nature  again  calls  the  birds  to  the 
duties  of  nest-building,  they  do  not  seek  another  site,  but 
enlarge  the  last  year's  roof  and  build  another  layer  or 
layers  of  nests  round  the  old  ones,  after  the  manner  of 
the  new  cells  in  a  wasp's  nest.  Year  by  year  the  same 
edifice  is  used.  Small  wonder,  then,  that  these  nests  fre- 
quently attain  enormous  proportions. 

The  weaver-birds  and  hang-nests  are  the  eccentrics  of 
the  bird  world,  so  far  as  their  nests  are  concerned.  Using 
wiry  grasses  and  fibres,  for  the  most  part,  they  weave 
them  so  skilfully  that  they  appear  to  be  the  result  of  the 

127 


Nests  in  Trees 

efforts  of  some  higher  intelligence  than  is  to  be  found 
amongst  birds.  One  and  all  are  bizarre  in  shape.  Bottle, 
pear  and  retort  shapes  are  common,  and  some  of  the 
nests  resemble  hammocks.  Some  are  more  than  mere 
nests,  and  form  permanent  abodes ;  many  are  double- 
chambered,  one  for  the  sitting  hen,  the  other  a  resting- 
place  for  her  mate,  or  a  nursery  for  her  chicks. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  of  these  nests  is  constructed 
by  the  Baltimore  oriole,  a  common  American  bird.  It 
bears  considerable  resemblance  to  the  housewife's  string 
bag,  being  suspended  by  its  rim  from  some  favoured 
branch.  The  bird  weaves  vegetable  fibres  so  skilfully  in 
its  construction  that  the  substance  of  the  nest  resembles 
that  of  a  straw  hat  in  an  unfinished  state.  Frequently 
wool  and  hair  are  woven  into  the  nest  to  give  it  added 
strength.  As  the  Baltimore  oriole  is  not  troubled  with 
shyness,  its  building  operations  have  been  frequently 
observed.  In  the  first  place,  it  selects  the  strongest  fibres 
it  can  find,  and  weaves  them  round  the  branches  it  has 
selected,  to  form  the  supports  for  its  pendent  nest. 

On  this  foundation  it  builds  up  the  rest  of  the  structure 
and  lines  the  whole  with  a  layer  of  horsehair.  "  So 
solicitous  is  the  Baltimore  oriole  to  procure  proper 
materials  for  his  nest  that  in  the  season  of  building  the 
women  in  the  country  are  under  the  necessity  of  narrowly 
watching  their  threads  that  may  chance  to  be  out 
bleaching,  and  the  farmer  to  secure  his  young  grafts,  as 
the  Baltimore  oriole,  finding  the  former  and  the  strings 
which  tie  the  latter  so  well  adapted  for  his  purpose, 
frequently  carries  off  both.  Or,  should  the  one  be  over- 
heavy,  and  the  other  too  firmly  tied,  he  will  try  at  them 
for  a  considerable  time  before  he  gives  up  the  attempt. 
Skeins  of  silk  and  hanks  of  thread  have  often  been  found, 
after  the  leaves  have  fallen,  hanging  round  the  Baltimore 
oriole's  nest,  but  so  woven  up  and  entangled  as  to 
be  entirely  irrecoverable.  Before  the  introduction  of 
Europeans,  no  such  materials  could  have  been  found 

128 

X 


A    BIRD-CATCHING    SPIDER'S    WEB. 

This  enormous  Madagascar  spider  spins  webs  so  strong  that  birds  are  caught  and  held  in  them. 
In  one  of  the  large  meshes  will  be  seen  a  small  parasitic  spider's  web  for  catching  flies  and 
other  insects.  The  smaller  spider  is  not  only  permitted  to  do  this,  but  is  protected  by  its 
host  from  the  attacks  of  the  smaller  birds. 


Nests  in  Trees 

here ;  but,  with  the  sagacity  of  a  good  architect,  he  has 
improved  this  circumstance  to  his  advantage,  and  the 
strongest  and  best  materials  are  always  found  in  those 
parts  by  which  the  whole  is  supported." 

We  must  leave  the  work  of  the  weaver-birds  and  hang- 
nests  with  this  scanty  review  and  pass  to  nests  in  which 
mud  plays  its  part  in  binding  the  nesting  materials 
together.  A  common  yet  withal  a  good  example  of 
such  a  nest  is  constructed  by  the  song-thrush.  The 
greater  part  of  the  thrush's  nest  is  composed  of  small 
stalks  and  grass,  and  in  this  it  is  in  no  way  peculiar,  but 
the  interior  of  the  nest  is  worthy  of  close  study.  The 
beautifully  moulded  cup  of  cow  dung,  despite  its  un- 
pleasant associations,  cannot  fail  to  excite  our  admiration. 
As  thin  as  the  proverbial  wafer,  and  of  exceeding  tough- 
ness, it  is  moulded  and  plastered  with  marvellous  skill. 
By  the  heat  of  her  own  body  the  mother  bird  dries  the 
lining,  then,  as  though  to  protect  her  chicks  from  con- 
tamination, she  adds  a  further  thin  lining  of  fine  wood 
chips  mixed  with  saliva,  an  actual  lining  of  bird-made 
linoleum. 

One  might  imagine  that  such  a  structure  would  be 
hard  for  the  eggs  and  cold  for  the  chicks ;  as  a  fact,  it 
forms  a  first-rate  incubator.  The  hen  bird,  when  sitting, 
opens  her  wings  slightly,  covering  the  whole  of  the 
cup-shaped  nest,  which  retains  her  body  heat  to  a  remark- 
able degree,  thus  making  for  the  efficient  hatching  of  the 
eggs.  The  blackbird  builds  a  very  similar  nest,  but  covers 
its  mud  lining  with  a  thin  layer  of  grass. 

The  pied  grallina,  instead  of  lining  its  nest  with  mud, 
mixes  this  material  with  sticks,  grasses  and  feathers,  to 
form  a  very  rigid  plaster.  Still  more  curious  is  the  nest 
of  the  oven-bird.  Like  the  pied  grallina,  it  uses  mud 
mingled  with  grass  and  various  vegetable  fibres,  which  is 
hardened  by  the  sun's  rays  to  the  consistency  of  brick. 
The  rounded,  dome-shaped  nest  has  a  slit-like  opening 
at  the  side,  and  although  its  thick  walls  are  immensely 
i  129 


Nests  in  Trees 

strong,  it  is  still  further  strengthened  by  a  partition,  also 
made  of  mud  and  grass.  The  inner  chamber  of  the  two- 
chambered  nest  is  lined  with  feathers,  and  is  used  by  the 
female  for  incubation  purposes.  The  outer  chamber 
appears  to  be  a  retiring-room  for  the  male  bird. 

The  common  swallow  and  the  house-martin  are  also 
mud-builders,  familiar  to  us  all.  The  latter  bird  builds 
a  nest  shaped  like  a  half  basin  and  usually  attaches  it  to 
the  wall  of  a  building.  Pellet  by  pellet  it  brings  the 
mud  to  build  its  home.  Beginning  at  the  bottom,  it,  so 
to  speak,  constructs  the  base  of  its  nest  and,  working 
upwards,  it  adds  the  rest  piece  by  piece,  allowing  each 
addition  to  dry  before  applying  another.  Often  straw 
and  other  vegetable  matter  is  added  to  the  mud  for 
strengthening  purposes,  and  the  completed  nest  is  lined 
with  feathers  and  dry  grass. 

Curious  indeed  are  the  nests  built  by  the  edible  swifts, 
for  the  sole  material  used  consists  of  the  bird's  saliva. 
These  nests  are  considered  a  great  delicacy  in  certain 
parts  of  the  world  and  a  large  trade  has  been  built  up  in 
them — they  are  used  for  soup-making. 

Mr  Charles  Dixon,  the  well-known  ornithologist,  gives 
a  very  good  account  of  the  collection  of  these  nests  : 
"  The  swifts  arrive  at  the  Andamans  towards  the  end  of 
November.  Before  the  birds  arrive  a  party  of  convicts 
and  natives  is  sent  round  to  all  the  caves  which  the  birds  \ 
frequent  to  clear  away  all  the  old  nests  and  generally  to 
clean  the  resorts.  The  birds  appear  to  be  in  no  hurry  to 
commence  nest-building,  and  the  first  crop  of  nests  is 
generally  a  poor  one,  being  soiled  by  the  damp  and  the 
drippings  from  the  roof  of  the  caves. 

"  About  the  end  of  January  the  collectors  visit  the  different 
caves — a  journey  which  occupies  about  three  weeks — in  an 
open  boat,  and  bring  in  all  the  nests  that  have  been  built. 
The  best  quality  of  these  resembles  pure  isinglass,  are 
worth  their  weight  in  silver  and  are  found  in  the  caves  in 
limestone  and  volcanic  rocks,  those  from  sandstone  being 

130 


Nests  in  Trees 

considered  inferior.  The  birds  now  build  much  faster  and 
at  the  end  of  February  a  second  gathering  takes  place, 
which  is  usually  the  best  of  the  season.  The  third 
collection  is  made  in  April,  when  the  nests,  though  of 
good  quality,  are  thin  and  dry.  After  this  the  poor  birds 
are  left  in  peace  to  build  again  and  rear  their  young. 
The  nests  are  very  carefully  removed  from  the  rock  with 
an  iron  trident,  and  are  kept  in  clean  linen  bags,  it 
being  most  important  that  they  should  not  become  soiled 
or  wetted  by  sea-water.  When  brought  into  port,  they 
are  cleaned  of  all  feathers  and  impurities,  and  then  packed 
in  bundles  weighing  about  4  Ibs.  each  and  graded 
according  to  their  quality.  The  nests  are  divided  into 
three  classes,  the  first  and  best  being  pure  white,  the 
second  clean  but  of  a  yellow  colour,  the  third  dis- 
coloured and  mixed  with  feathers  and  other  substances. 
These  wonderful  nests  are  formed  from  a  gelatinous 
secretion  from  the  salivary  glands  of  the  birds.  Many  of 
the  caves,  which  are  scattered  about  the  islands  and  some- 
times far  inland  or  amongst  mangrove  swamps,  are  quite 
dark,  torches  and  ladders  being  necessary  to  collect  the 
spoil." 

The  dipper  builds  its  neat,  domed  nest  close  to  some 
stream,  or  sometimes,  indeed,  behind  a  waterfall,  through 
which  it  must  needs  fly  on  its  journey  to  and  from  the 
nest.  The  greatest  care  is  taken  in  the  building  of  this 
little  home ;  it  is  neatly  constructed  of  fresh  moss  which 
is  kept  in  green  condition  by  the  spray  from  the  nearby 
water. 

Often  the  material  of  which  a  nest  is  made  is  of  greater 
interest  than  is  the  nest  itself;  sometimes  the  form  and 
material  are  both  peculiar,  and  such  is  the  nest  of  the  fiery 
topaz.  In  shape  it  resembles  a  miniature  cow's  horn,  with 
the  point  affixed  to  some  slender  branch.  In  material  it 
appears  to  be  made  of  leather  and  its  nature  for  long 
remained  a  mystery.  Seeing  that  it  closely  resembles 
the  branch  on  which  it  is  built,  the  first  surmise  was  that 


Nests  in  Trees 

the  nest  was  some  natural  outgrowth  of  the  tree,  of  which 
the  bird  had  taken  possession.  But  all  these  early 
guesses  were  wrong,  as  naturalists  discovered  when  they 
watched  the  bird  more  closely.  It  was  seen  to  search 
diligently  over  every  tree  near  its  home  till  it  met  with 
a  fungus  of  the  genus  Boletus.  Now  this  fungus,  though 
soft,  is  tough  and  leathery,  but  the  fiery  topaz  deftly 
moulds  the  uninviting  substance  into  a  comfortable, 
serviceable  nest  of  marvellous  craftsmanship. 

A  very  remarkable  nest,  and  one  which  forces  itself 
upon  our  attention,  is  that  of  the  great  grey  shrike.  The 
bird  seems  anxious  that  we  should  all  admire  its  handi- 
work, for  it  always  builds  in  the  most  conspicuous  places. 
Of  the  nest  itself  there  is  but  little  to  say.  It  is  large  and 
rough  and  loosely  built  of  moss,  wool  and  grass,  and  its 
lining  is  of  hair. 

Of  far  greater  interest  than  the  nest  is  the  larder  with 
which  it  is  always  surrounded.  Now  the  shrikes  are 
peculiar  amongst  birds  of  prey,  in  that  they  always 
impale  their  victims  on  some  nearby  thorns.  Accordingly 
the  nests  are  invariably  built  in  thorn-bearing  shrubs,  such 
as  the  blackthorn.  Bees,  beetles,  even  nestlings  are  the 
common  stock  of  this  avian  larder.  Why,  exactly,  these 
birds  should  have  such  curious  habits  is  a  moot  point. 
Some  say  that  they  cannot  eat  any  flesh  till  it  has  been 
well  hung,  but,  as  a  fact,  shrikes  often  kill  and  eat  insects 
without  impaling  them. 

A  peculiar  and  erroneous  story  has  been  woven  around 
the  red-backed  shrike,  another  familiar  bird,  to  the  effect 
that  there  are  always  nine  impaled  creatures  round  its 
nest,  and  that  after  eating  one  it  always  catches  and 
impales  another  before  venturing  on  a  second  meal.  So 
deep  rooted  has  this  fable  become  that  the  bird  is  called 
the  nine-killer  in  some  parts  of  the  country,  in  fact  its 
scientific  name  signifies  as  much. 

Formerly  the  great  grey  shrike  was  used  in  falconry, 
though  it  was  held  in  little  esteem.  In  an  old  sporting 

132 


THE  BUTCHER-BIRD'S  LARDER 


The  Butcher-bird  impales  its  prey  on  thorns,  and  the  remains  of  many  victims  may 
often  be  seen  on  a  favourite  thorn-bush.  The  "larder"  represented  in  the  picture 
contains  a  beetle,  a  lizard,  a  young  Blackbird,  a  Blue  litmouse,  and  a  Hedge- 
Sparrow. 


Nests  in  Trees 

book  the  following  amusing  account  is  given  of  the 
method  by  which  the  bird  captures  its  prey  : — "  Sometimes 
upon  certain  birds  she  doth  use  to  prey,  whome  she  doth 
entrappe  and  deceive  by  flight,  for  this  is  her  desire.  She 
will  stand  at  perch  upon  some  tree  or  poste,  and  there 
make  an  exceeding  lamentable  crye  and  exclamation, 
such  as  birds  are  wonte  to  do,  being  wronged  or  in 
hazard  of  mischiefe,  and  all  to  make  other  fowles  believe 
and  thinke  that  she  is  very  much  distressed  and  stands  in 
need  of  ayde ;  whereupon  the  credulous  sellie  birds  do 
flocke  together  presently  at  her  call  and  voice,  at  what 
time  if  any  happen  to  approach  neare  her  she  out  of  hand 
ceazeth  on  them,  and  devoureth  them  (ungrateful  subtile 
fowle !)  in  requital  for  their  simplicity  and  pains. 

"  Heare  I  ende  of  this  hawke,  because  I  neither 
accompte  her  worthy  the  name  of  a  hawke,  in  whom  there 
resteth  no  valour  or  hardiness,  nor  yet  deserving  to  have 
any  more  written  upon  her  propertie  and  nature.  For  truly 
it  is  not  the  property  of  any  other  hawke,  by  such  devise 
and  cowardly  will  to  come  by  their  prey,  but  they  love  to 
winne  it  by  main  force  of  wings  at  random,  as  the  round- 
winged  hawkes  doe,  or  by  free  stooping,  as  the  hawkes  of 
the  tower  doe  most  commonly  use  as  the  falcon,  gerfalcon, 
sacre,  merlyn  and  such-like." 

One  of  our  summer  visitors,  the  reed-warbler,  is  a 
beautiful  and  ingenious  little  nest-builder.  Arriving  in 
this  country  after  the  reeds  are  well  grown  and  departing 
before  they  are  cut,  it  lives,  as  a  rule,  a  happy,  care-free 
life.  Still  water  and  abundance  of  reeds  provide  this 
delightful  little  bird  with  all  the  necessities  for  an  enjoy- 
able life  ;  for  amongst  the  reeds  it  can  find  abundance  of 
food  and  material  for  its  nest,  together  with  a  suitable 
situation  for  its  erection.  The  parent  birds  hunt  the 
reed-beds  till  they  find  three  or  four  reeds  growing  fairly 
close  together.  Having  made  this  discovery,  the  work  of 
nest-building  commences.  First  of  all  the  leaves  of  dried 
reeds  are  skilfully  twined  round  the  chosen  reeds  till  they 

133 


Nests  in  Trees 

are  firmly  bound  together.  Then,  working  from  below 
upwards,  further  additions  of  reed  and  tough  grasses  are 
cleverly  interwoven  with  the  supporting  reeds,  which  act  as 
scaffold  poles.  Eventually  the  little  nest  is  completed,  and 
a  marvellous  structure  it  is. 

Anyone  who  has  watched  reeds  blown  and  bent  now  here 
now  there  even  in  a  slight  wind  must  wonder  that  any 
bird  should  select  so  frail  a  support  for  its  nest.  The  reed- 
warbler,  however,  builds  a  nest  that  is  proof  against  all 
but  the  most  violent  storms,  for  it  is  remarkably  deep  for 
its  size  and,  as  it  sways  in  the  wind  till  it  lies  almost 
horizontally,  the  eggs  ride  securely  in  its  depths  and  are 
in  no  danger  of  falling  out. 

Before  we  pass  to  the  consideration  of  birds'  eggs  and 
their  peculiarities  we  must,  perforce,  mention  one  skilled 
architect  if  only  for  the  fact  that  its  activities  are  so  ex- 
traordinary and  so  different  from  those  of  all  other  birds. 
We  refer  to  the  tailor-bird  of  India.  This  little  bird 
tailored  its  leaves  long  years  before  man  wore  clothes.  We 
wonder  if  man  learned  the  art  from  this  humble  bird  as  he 
admittedly  has  done  in  other  cases  from  other  animals 
lower  in  the  scale  than  himself. 

The  tailor-bird  builds  its  white,  cottony  nest  either  in  the 
folds  of  a  single  leaf  or  between  two  or  more.  Whether 
one  or  more  leaves  are  used,  it  is  necessary  for  the  bird  to 
make  a  funnel  to  hold  its  nest.  To  accomplish  this,  either 
the  two  edges  of  a  large  leaf  must  be  fastened  together  or 
the  edges  of  more  than  one  leaf  must  be  joined,  and  the 
bird  accomplishes  this  by  sewing  the  leaves.  Using  its 
beak  as  a  needle,  it  bores  a  number  of  holes  along  either 
edge  of  the  chosen  leaf;  then,  having  provided  itself  with 
thread,  in  the  shape  of  plant  fibres,  with  beak  and  feet  it 
brings  the  two  edges  together  and  sews  them  up.  Some 
of  these  birds  take  the  greatest  care  in  sewing  their  leaves 
from  tip  to  base,  others  insert  a  few  threads  here  and 
there,  but  in  any  event  the  result  is  the  same  :  the  original 
flat  leaf  is  fashioned  into  a  cone.  Should  the  bird  not 

134 


Nests  in  Trees 

be  able  to  find  a  leaf  of  sufficient  size  to  hold  its  nest,  or 
two  leaves  so  near  to  one  another  that  they  can  be  sewn, 
it  will  pluck  a  leaf  from  a  neighbouring  tree  and  sew  it  to 
the  leaf  it  has  selected.  Most  remarkable  of  all  is  that 
the  bird,  like  an  efficient  sempstress,  knots  the  end  of  the 
fibre  to  prevent  its  pulling  through  the  holes  in  the  leaf  or 
leaves. 


CHAPTER   XI 
BIRDS'  EGGS 

WHEREVER  and  whenever  birds  and  their  nests  are  dis- 
cussed it  is  fitting  that  something  should  be  said  about 
their  eggs,  and  for  this  reason :  looked  at  in  the  proper 
light,  they  teach  us  a  great  deal  about  the  birds  themselves. 
All  healthy-minded  schoolboys,  and  many  grown-up 
boys,  have  collected  birds'  eggs,  some  from  the  mere 
pleasure  of  plundering  a  creature  weaker  than  themselves, 
many  because  of  a  genuine  love  of  nature  and  all  that  it 
implies,  and  a  few,  thanks  no  doubt  to  the  encouragement 
of  a  school  or  local  natural  history  society,  with  the  object 
of  gaining  a  real  knowledge  of  bird  life.  Of  all  these 
collectors,  how  many,  we  wonder,  look  upon  their  prizes  in 
the  light  of  bric-a-brac,  or  foreign  stamps  or  cigar  bands 
or  cigarette  pictures  or  any  of  the  other  hundred  and  one 
things  that  lend  themselves  to  collection,  and  how  many 
try  to  learn  something  of  the  habits  and  nature  of  the 
birds  that  laid  their  treasures. 

The  association  of  the  egg  and  its  producer  is  more 
intimate  than  might  be  expected.  We  all  know  a  duck 
when  we  see  it,  despite  the  fact  that  it  may  belong  to  a 
species  we  have  never  seen  before.  Birds  of  prey,  too, 
cannot  be  mistaken  for  any  other  birds  ;  their  hooked  beaks 
and  well-developed  talons  give  away  their  profession.  The 
snipe  and  its  family  also  bear  a  striking  resemblance  to 
one  another,  and  the  list  might  be  extended  ad  nauseam. 

Justas  thesebirds  possess  certain  peculiarities  of  structure 
which  mark  them  out  from  all  other  birds,  so  do  their 
eggs,  and  the  eggs  of  many  other  birds.  A  very  slight 
acquaintance  with  them  will  enable  the  student  to  say  at 
once  that  any  particular  egg  was  laid  by  a  duck,  a  grebe, 

136 


NESTS  OF  THE  BAYA  WEAVER-BIRD 

In  India  these  birds  usually  suspend  their  nests  from  branches  of  palrns  or  other  trees  which  over- 
hang a  stream,  and  weight  them  with  lumps  of  clay  which  prevent  them  swaying  about  at  the  mercy  of 
the  wind.  The  nati/es  state  that  fireflies  are  fastened  into  the  clay  for  the  purpose  of  frightening  away 
rats  and  snakes.  The  curious  compound  nest  in  the  foreground  is  drawn  from  a  specimen  in  the 
Natural  History  Museum  at  South  Kensington. 


Birds'  Eggs 

a  hawk,  an  owl,  a  plover,  as  the  case  may  be  ;  and,  what  is 
more,  the  experienced  man  can  say  something  of  the  nest 
in  which  a  particular  egg  was  laid.  We  hope  to  show 
how  this  may  be  accomplished  and  also  that  there  is  more 
in  an  egg  than  meets  the  eye — sometimes  there  is  a  good 
deal  more,  but  that  is  another  story. 

The  sizes  of  eggs,  needless  to  say,  vary  enormously — 
from  those  of  the  extinct  sepyornis,  the  contents  of  whose 
egg  measured  at  least  three  gallons,  to  the  tiny  egg  of  the 
humming-bird,  a  striking  contrast  indeed.  Confining 
ourselves  to  present-day  eggs,  the  contrast  between  the 
largest,  laid  by  the  ostrich,  and  the  smallest,  that  of  the 
humming-bird,  there  is  an  enormous  difference.  The  size 
of  an  egg  does  not,  of  necessity,  bear  any  strict  relation- 
ship to  the  size  of  the  mother  bird — that  is  to  say,  if  we 
had  twelve  eggs  of  various  sizes  and  arranged  them  in  the 
order  of  their  sizes,  we  could  not  say  of  a  certainty  that 
the  birds  if  arranged  according  to  size  would  come  in  the 
same  order  as  the  eggs.  The  kiwi,  for  instance,  lays  an 
enormous  egg  for  its  size,  one  quarter  as  large  as  itself,  in 
fact.  The  snipe  and  the  blackbird  are  about  the  same 
size,  yet  the  egg  of  the  former  is  very  much  larger  than 
that  of  the  latter.  For  this  reason  it  is  unsafe  to  predict 
the  size  of  a  bird  from  the  dimensions  of  its  egg,  as  has 
been  done  in  the  case  of  certain  fossil  eggs  of  extinct  birds. 
Some  of  these  eggs  are  of  gigantic  proportions,  as  we  have 
mentioned  earlier,  and  surmising  that  the  mother  must 
be  as  large  in  comparison,  geologists  have  described 
imaginary  birds  too  large  to  be  credible. 

The  numbers  of  eggs  laid  by  any  one  bird  vary  as  much 
as  their  sizes.  Certain  birds  lay  but  a  single  egg,  the 
puffin  and  the  hornbill  for  example.  Many  birds,  like  the 
nightjar  and  the  pigeons,  confine  themselves  to  a  couple. 
At  the  other  extreme  are  such  birds  as  the  kingfisher  and 
the  wryneck,  the  former  of  which  will  lay  its  own  weight 
in  eggs  should  occasion  arise,  whilst  the  latter  has  been 
known  to  lay  as  many  as  forty-three  eggs.  But  these  are 

137 


Birds'  Eggs 

exceptional  cases,  and  such  prodigious  fecundity  only 
occurs  when  mishaps  overtake  the  first-laid  eggs.  In 
the  ordinary  case,  the  partridge,  with  a  complement  of 
about  sixteen  eggs,  will  suffice  as  our  example  of  .a 
good  layer. 

The  domestic  hen,  of  course,  surpasses  even  the  wryneck, 
but  then  it  does  not  live  under  natural  conditions,  so  must 
be  left  out  of  our  reckoning.  Here  we  may  fitly  add  a 
remark  anent  one  of  Nature's  laws  to  which  there  are  few 
if  any  exceptions.  The  number  of  eggs  laid  by  any  bird 
in  a  single  season  is  roughly  proportional  to  the  chance 
those  eggs  have  of  developing  into  adult  birds.  The 
puffin,  as  we  have  said,  lays  a  single  egg.  This  is  hidden 
away  in  a  burrow  constructed  by  the  parents,  who  are  well 
able  to  take  care  of  themselves  and  their  young. 

The  wryneck,  though  so  remarkably  prolific,  is  a  rare 
bird  with  us;  we  may  conclude,  therefore,  that  the  mortality 
amongst  wrynecks  is  heavy.  "  Its  struggle  for  life  is  un- 
doubtedly a  severe  one,  and  its  great  fecundity  most  prob- 
ably saves  it  from  complete  extinction."  The  domestic 
hen,  finding  its  eggs  were  removed  as  soon  as  they  were  laid, 
made  persistent  efforts  to  raise  some  offspring.  This 
happened  so  frequently  in  the  early  days  of  its  domestica- 
tion that  it  became  a  habit,  at  least  man  intended  it  so, 
but  poultry-keepers  know,  only  too  well,  that  the  hen  is 
fickle  and  frequently  does  not  reward  its  owner  in  the  way 
it  should. 

The  surface  texture  of  eggs  is  the  next  point  to  be 
noticed,  and  in  this  again  they  vary  considerably.  The 
majority  are  matt,  shall  we  say  midway  between  rough 
and  smooth.  There  are  all  sorts  of  variations  of  surface, 
from  the  exceedingly  rough  shell  of  the  egg  of  the  emu 
to  the  very  highly  glazed  product  of  the  tinamou. 
Between  these  extremes  we  have  the  pitted  eggs  of  the 
ostrich  ;  but  these  eggs  are  variable  amongst  themselves  ; 
some  are  almost  smooth,  some  deeply  pitted,  and 
naturalists  say  that  the  birds  laying  smooth  eggs  do 

138 


Birds'  Eggs 

not  belong  to  the  same  species  as  those  laying  pitted 
eggs-  Certain  birds'  eggs  are  covered  with  a  chalky 
deposit. 

We  are  now  confronted  with  the  two  most  important 
points  about  birds'  eggs,  their  shapes  and  their  colour. 
Let  us  speak  first  of  their  shapes.  The  contour  of  an 
egg  is  almost  invariably  a  certain  guide  to  the  group  to 
which  the  bird  who  laid  it  belongs.  Thus  all  the  owls  lay 
round  eggs,  and  so  do  kingfishers  ;  penguins  and  nightjars 
lay  oval  eggs ;  those  of  plovers  and  sandpipers  are 
sharply  pointed  at  one  end,  whilst  grebes'  eggs  are  pointed 
at  either  end.  Why  should  there  be  all  these  different 
shapes  ?  Well,  we  can  only  give  a  few  instances  to  show 
that  the  shape  of  an  egg  is  not  a  mere  coincidence,  but  is 
carefully  designed  for  a  special  object. 

Take  a  hen's  egg  and  try  to  roll  it  along  a  smooth 
surface.  It  will  roll  certainly,  but  it  tends  to  describe  a 
circle.  The  hen's  egg  is  slightly  more  pointed  at  one  end 
than  the  other,  a  fact  which  accounts  for  its  not  rolling 
straight.  The  plover's  egg  is  much  more  pointed  than 
the  hen's,  and  it  will  not  roll  in  any  other  manner  but  in 
a  circle,  a  fact  which  serves  the  parent  bird's  purpose 
admirably,  for,  being  laid  in  a  flat,  shallow  nest  on  the 
ground,  it  is  most  important  that  the  eggs  should  not  roll 
away  when  the  sitting  bird  is  suddenly  disturbed  from 
her  nest.  Owls  and  kingfishers,  on  the  other  hand,  lay 
round  eggs  which  will  roll  easily,  but  as  these  birds  nest 
in  holes  there  is  no  need  for  any  provision  to  be  made 
against  their  doing  so. 

The  most  important  and  most  striking  characteristic  of 
birds'  eggs  is  their  colour.  Now  these  colours  are  not 
lavished  by  Nature  for  the  mere  purpose  of  decoration. 
Most  of  Nature's  workings,  perhaps  all  of  them,  serve  an 
end,  though  it  is  sometimes  difficult  to  read  the  book  of 
nature.  The  colours  and  markings  of  eggs,  as  is  the 
case  with  birds'  plumage,  is  largely  subordinated  to  the 
consideration  of  protection.  For  our  purpose  we  may 

139 


Birds'  Eggs 

divide  all  eggs  into  two  great  groups,  the  spotless  and 
the  spotted.  Probably  in  the  long  ago  all  eggs  were 
white.  As  the  need  for  protection  became  more  acute, 
various  shades  and  tints  came  into  being,  and  then,  for 
the  purpose  of  further  protection,  arose  the  speckled, 
spotted,  blotched  and  veined  eggs  which  abound  every- 
where at  the  present  day. 

Let  us  consider  the  first  of  our  great  groups,  the  spotless 
eggs.  We  have  mentioned  that  colour  in  eggs  is  a  means 
of  protection ;  what  more  natural,  then,  than  to  find  that 
white  eggs  are  almost  invariably  laid  by  birds  which  nest 
in  holes  or  make  domed  nests.  Most  owls,  and  all  wood- 
peckers, tree-creepers,  wrynecks,  kingfishers,  sand-martins 
and  pufrms  nest  in  holes,  and  all  lay  white  eggs.  The 
dipper,  too,  lays  white  eggs  in  its  domed  nest,  and  the 
grebes,  on  the  other  hand,  despite  the  fact  that  their  nests 
are  flat,  open  structures,  also  lay  similar  coloured  eggs, 
and  may  appear  at  first  sight  to  be  exceptions.  To  a 
certain  point  they  are  exceptional,  but,  as  though  to  hide 
their  guilt,  these  birds  always  cover  their  eggs  with 
vegetation  when  they  leave  their  nests.  Wrens  and  tits, 
although  they  construct  covered  nests,  do  not  lay  pure 
white  eggs,  but  slightly  spotted  ones,  for  the  reason  that 
their  eggs  are  not  so  perfectly  hidden  from  view,  as  a 
rule,  as  are  those  of  the  true  hole-builders.  In  this 
connection,  an  interesting  comparison  may  be  made 
between  the  eggs  of  the  closely  related  swift,  house-martin 
and  swallow. 

The  swift  and  house-martin  build  covered  nests  with 
minute  entrances  thereto  and,  as  might  be  expected, 
their  eggs  are  white ;  the  swallow,  on  the  other  hand, 
makes  a  more  open  nest  and,  as  is  fitting,  its  eggs  are 
spotted.  This  brings  us  to  another  interesting  point. 
Birds  of  brilliant  plumage  rarely  lay  brightly  coloured 
eggs,  nor  are  such  birds  as  a  rule  gifted  with  great  vocal 
powers.  The  sweet-voiced  nightingale  could  hardly  be 
arrayed  in  more  sombre  plumage,  whilst  the  gorgeously 

140 


Birds'  Eggs 

arrayed  parrots  can  hardly  utter  a  note  which  could  be 
called  musical,  except  through  their  extraordinary  powers 
of  mimicry.  It  is  also  noticeable  that  brilliantly  coloured 
birds  usually  nest  in  concealed  positions,  for  their  own 
better  protection  during  the  days  of  incubation.  King- 
fishers, parrots  and  woodpeckers  bear  out  our  statement. 

It  is  rare  to  meet  with  a  rule  without  exceptions,  and 
there  are  exceptions  to  the  rule  that  white  eggs  are  laid 
in  covered  nests.  Most  ducks  lay  nearly  white  eggs  in 
open  nests ;  partridges  and  pheasants  lay  eggs  of  such 
a  colour  that  they  are  easily  distinguished  from  their 
surroundings,  and  their  nests  are  exposed  to  the  prying 
eyes  of  beast  and  man.  Herons,  cormorants  and  storks 
all  lay  light-coloured  eggs  in  open  nests  also,  and  the 
short-eared  owl  deposits  her  white  eggs  upon  the  ground. 

Why  should  there  be  these  exceptions,  and  how  is  it 
that  the  conspicuous  eggs  do  not  all  come  to  an  unfortun- 
ate end  ?  The  short-eared  owl,  for  instance,  is  remarkably 
well  protected  by  reason  of  the  close  resemblance  of  its 
plumage  to  the  vegetation  of  the  places  in  which  it  nests ; 
moreover,  the  bird  is  an  exceedingly  close  sitter,  so  that 
the  mother  herself  protects  her  conspicuous  eggs,  and 
danger  is  thus  avoided  time  and  again.  Herons,  cormor- 
ants and  the  like  are  gregarious  and  nest  in  company,  a 
fact  which  renders  their  eggs  less  likely  to  come  to  harm. 
Ducks,  pheasants  and  partridges,  like  the  grebes  we  have 
already  mentioned,  laying  conspicuous  eggs  in  fully 
exposed  nests,  all  take  the  precaution  of  covering  their 
eggs  with  vegetation  harmonising  with  their  surroundings 
before  they  leave  their  nests.  It  has  been  said  that  they 
do  so  in  order  to  keep  their  eggs  warm,  but  a  study  of 
the  habits  of  the  birds  will  show  that  they  cover  them 
before  they  have  started  sitting,  before,  therefore,  the 
necessity  for  warmth  has  commenced. 

Of  the  spotted  eggs,  we  find  that  those  with  a  greenish 
ground  colour  are  usually  laid  by  birds  which  nest  in  the 
early  spring,  amid  green  trees  and  shrubs.  Thrushes,  black- 

141 


Birds'  Eggs 

birds  and  crows  are  of  these.  Just  as  we  found  white 
eggs  in  open  nests,  so  we  find  spotted  eggs  in  concealed 
nests.  Nature  would  not  be  half  so  interesting  if  she  did  not 
treat  us  to  these  apparent  anomalies.  The  magpie,  despite 
its  elaborate  domed  nest,  lays  spotted  eggs  ;  the  jackdaw, 
which  builds  in  holes,  has  very  similar  eggs.  In  both 
these  cases  the  eggs  are  much  paler  than  those  of  closely 
related  birds  which  build  in  open  nests,  so  it  is  reasonable 
to  suppose  that  with  the  passage  of  time  there  will  arise 
magpies  and  jackdaws  capable  of  laying  spotless  eggs. 

A  few  words  concerning  the  protective  colouring  of 
eggs  may  not  be  out  of  place.  Let  us  begin  with  those 
of  ground  birds  such  as  the  nightjar,  skylark  and  meadow- 
pipit,  all  of  which  harmonise  marvellously  with  their 
surroundings,  and  those  of  the  nightjar  may  serve  as  our 
example.  This  bird  has  brought  concealment  to  a  fine 
art  ;  even  its  manner  of  perching  on  a  tree  branch  is 
designed  to  render  it  as  inconspicuous  as  possible.  Other 
birds  perch  across  the  branch.  Not  so  the  nightjar. 
Selecting  a  broad  branch,  he  perches  along  it,  and,  what 
is  more,  crouches  low  upon  it.  In  this  position  detection 
is  wellnigh  impossible,  he  harmonises  so  well  with  his 
surroundings. 

The  female  nightjar,  often  called  the  fern-owl  from  her 
supposed  resemblance  to  an  owl  and  her  habit  of  fre- 
quenting bracken,  lays  two  eggs  upon  the  ground,  usually 
at  the  base  of  a  fir-tree  or  under  a  furze  bush,  and  sits 
them  closely.  But  even  when  the  mother  bird  is  disturbed, 
her  eggs  so  nearly  resemble  their  surroundings  that  they 
are  adequately  protected.  Pure  white,  mottled  and  veined 
with  red-brown  and  grey,  they  are  amongst  the  most 
beautiful  eggs  of  any  British  bird,  and  also  some  of  the 
most  variable,  no  two  being  quite  alike.  Curiously,  should 
mishap  overtake  the  first-laid  eggs,  the  nightjar  makes 
another  attempt  at  housekeeping,  but  this  time  she 
lays  only  a  single  egg. 

Here,  in  imagination,  we  have  two  eggs  before  us. 

142 


Birds'  Eggs 

With  their  sizes  and  shapes  we  are  not  concerned  ;  it  is 
their  colours  alone  that  interest  us  for  the  moment.  The 
one,  a  neat  little  egg,  is  dark  cream  in  colour,  spotted 
with  grey  and  brown ;  the  other  is  not  altogether  dis- 
similar, but  the  fine  spots  are  wanting  and  in  their  place 
we  observe  large,  bold  blotches.  We  have  been  told,  and 
rightly  so,  that  both  these  birds  nest  upon  the  seashore. 
How,  we  may  well  ask,  can  eggs  so  diverse  in  general 
markings  both  be  protected  by  their  colour  ? 

Let  us  place  the  first  egg,  the  one  with  the  fine  dots,  on 
the  fine  sand  and  observe  that  it  is  most  difficult  to  isolate 
it  from  its  surroundings.  The  ringed  plover,  which  laid 
the  egg,  always  selects  fine  sand  for  its  nest.  Now  let  us 
take  the  other  egg,  the  boldly  marked  one,  higher  up  on 
the  shore,  almost  to  the  line  where  sand  and  shingle  meet, 
where  a  miscellaneous  collection  of  the  leavings  of  the  sea 
lie  scattered  here  and  there.  Let  us  place  our  egg  on  this 
ground  and  notice  that  it  is  even  more  difficult  to  find 
than  the  other.  The  second  egg  belongs  to  the  lesser 
tern,  which  nests  where  sand  and  shingle  meet. 

In  almost  every  species  of  bird  there  is  a  reason  for  the 
colour  or  shape  of  its  eggs.  We  could  quote  example  after 
example  of  eggs  designed  to  harmonise  with  their  usual 
surroundings.  Hawks'  eggs  usually  resemble  the  lining 
of  the  nest,  and  the  eggs  of  the  common  house-sparrow 
harmonise  so  well  with  the  feathers  with  which  it  upholsters 
its  nest  that  they  are  by  no  means  easy  to  detect. 
Occasionally,  however,  some  foolish  bird  will  build  its 
nest  in  such  a  position  that  its  eggs  by  their  very  colour 
and  markings  are  rendered  conspicuous.  What  is  the 
result  of  such  daring  ?  Calamity  befalls  the  home  in  the 
majority  of  cases  and  the  law  of  the  survival  of  the  fittest 
holds  sway.  Foolish  birds  are  not  encouraged  by  Nature 
to  beget  other  foolish  birds. 

It  is  often  difficult  to  account  for  the  colouring  of  eggs ; 
we  have  mentioned  a  few  of  these  puzzling  cases  already. 
The  common  guillemot  lays  but  a  single  egg  each  year, 

143 


Birds'  Eggs 

or,  to  be  more  correct,  rears  but  one  chick,  for,  with  a  per- 
sistence that  is  worthy  of  emulation,  the  female  guillemot 
will  lay  egg  after  egg  as  each  one  meets  with  mishap,  till 
in  the  end  she  accomplishes  her  object  of  bringing  another 
guillemot  into  the  world.  The  eggs  are  remarkably  vari- 
able ;  white,  cream,  sea-green,  pale  blue,  red-brown,  dark 
blue  and  yellowish-green  ground  colours  predominate,  and 
they  are  marked  with  dots,  blotches,  streaks  and  zones 
of  colour,  which  may  be  black,  brown,  green,  yellow  or 
pink.  In  short,  there  is,  between  limits,  hardly  any 
colouring  or  pattern  that  may  not  be  found  in  the 
guillemot's  egg.  The  birds  that  lay  dark  green  eggs  in 
their  first  season  will  always  lay  dark  green  eggs  all  their 
lives  ;  other  birds  will  always  lay  blue  eggs,  and  so  on. 

Surely  these  brightly  coloured,  bizarre  eggs  must  be 
very  conspicuous,  someone  will  say.  They  are  conspicuous, 
but  that  does  not  matter  very  much,  for  the  guillemot  lays 
its  eggs  on  narrow  ledges  of  rock  jutting  from  wellnigh 
inaccessible  cliffs.  Were  the  bird  to  nest  upon  the 
ground  its  striking  eggs  would  bring  about  its  extermina- 
tion in  a  very  short  time,  for  it  has  not  the  advantages  of 
the  woodcock,  which  lays  conspicuous  eggs. 

Now  the  woodcock  is  a  bird  whose  plumage  matches  its 
habitual  surroundings  about  as  closely  as  it  is  possible  for 
two  dissimilar  objects  to  match,  yet  the  bird  lays  an  egg* 
that  could  hardly  be  overlooked.  Apparently  the  bird  is 
conscious  of  its  failing,  for  few  sit  more  closely,  in  fact  it  is 
almost  possible  to  step  on  a  sitting  woodcock  before  she 
leaves  her  nest.  And  the  reason  for  her  close-sitting 
habit  is  that  her  drab  plumage  may  conceal  her  all  too 
conspicuous  eggs. 


144 


BIRD  PIRATES 

Black-headed  gulls  teasing  a  brown  pelican,  and  alighting  on  its  head  to  rob  it  of 
the  fish  with  which  it  has  filled  its  pouch. 


CHAPTER   XII 

PLUMAGE   AND   ITS   MEANING 

ALTHOUGH  it  may  be  comforting  to  think  that  the 
brightly  hued  birds  of  the  earth  have  been  placed  thereon, 
by  some  all-seeing  Providence,  for  man's  especial  delight 
or  woman's  adornment,  a  little  thought  will  show  that  this 
is  by  no  means  the  case.  In  general,  the  colours  of  birds 
are  either  designed  as  a  means  of  protection  against  their 
enemies  or  of  recognition  by  their  own  kind.  Let  us  look 
at  the  matter  impartially  under  these  two  headings,  but 
before  doing  so  we  will  say  a  few  words  anent  the  colours 
of  nestlings. 

Now  it  is  a  peculiar  fact  that  chicks  when  first  hatched 
usually  have  a  spotted  or  striped  livery,  and  various 
theories  have  been  propounded  to  account  for  this  fact. 
An  ingenious  though  much  debated  theory  is  to  the  effect 
that  the  longitudinal  markings  serve  to  render  nestlings 
less  conspicuous  amongst  herbage  with  long,  narrow 
leaves — grasses  and  the  like.  Spotted  nestlings,  on  the 
other  hand,  are  presumed  to  harmonise  better  with  nests 
liable  to  circular  shadows  from  more  rounded  leaves.  And 
the  propounder  of  this  theory  supports  his  case  with  the 
statement  that  "  strongly  spotted  forms  mostly  occur  in 
places  with  spotted  shadows,  the  longitudinally  striped 
in  more  grassy  regions.  Cross  marking  is  perhaps  to  be 
connected  with  the  shadows,  for  example,  of  the  branches 
of  woody  plants — thus  the  marking  of  the  wild  cat  escapes 
notice  among  the  branches  of  trees." 

The  great  naturalist  Wallace,  who  gave  much  of  his 
time  to  the  study  of  this  subject,  said  that  "  Protective 
coloration,  in  some  of  its  varied  forms,  has  not  improbably 
modified  the  appearance  of  one  half  of  the  animals  living 

K  145 


Plumage  and  its  Meaning 

on  the  globe."  In  studying  protective  colouring  we  must 
always  keep  one  point  in  mind  above  all  others.  A  bird, 
or  a  quadruped  or  a  reptile,  divorced  from  its  usual  haunts, 
may  be  so  brilliantly  coloured  as  to  attract  the  eye 
inordinately,  whereas  the  same  creature  in  a  state  of 
nature  may  by  the  very  brilliancy  of  its  hues  be  rendered 
inconspicuous. 

The  kingfisher,  as  he  sits  motionless  on  his  bough  above 
the  water  watching  intently  for  his  finny  prey,  is  wellnigh 
invisible ;  only  when  he  takes  to  flight  does  he  become 
conspicuous.  The  brilliantly  coloured  sun-birds  are  almost 
dazzling  in  their  brilliancy  when  viewed  as  captives  in 
a  cage,  but  flitting  from  one  bright  flower  to  another  in 
their  native  haunts  they  defy  the  detection  of  even  the 
keen-eyed  hawk. 

When  next  we  visit  the  Zoo  or  anywhere  where  there 
is  a  large  collection  of  birds  let  us  note  that  green  is  the 
prevailing  colour,  and,  to  carry  our  investigations  a  little 
further,  we  may  observe  that  nearly  all  these  birds  are 
natives  of  tropical  countries  where  the  vegetation  is  always 
green.  Parrots,  barbets,  woodpeckers  and  some  pigeons 
are  examples  that  come  readily  to  mind.  As  we  pass  to 
birds  dwelling  in  more  northern  latitudes,  we  notice  a 
considerable  sobering  down  of  colour,  greys  and  browns 
predominating.  Shore  birds,  moor  birds,  desert  and  marsh 
birds  are  all  coloured  in  such  a  manner  as  to  harmonise 
marvellously  with  their  surroundings,  and  it  does  not  require 
any  deep  study  to  realise  the  truth  of  this  assertion. 

In  the  game  dealer's  window  the  cock  pheasant  makes 
a  brave  show — he  is  one  of  the  most  gaily  attired  of  our 
native  birds ;  in  his  woodland  haunts  his  bright  hues 
merge  astonishingly  into  the  general  colour  scheme  of 
the  grass  and  russet  leaves  of  the  vegetation  amongst 
which  he  struts.  The  woodcock,  as  we  have  remarked 
elsewhere,  is  wellnigh  indistinguishable  amongst  the 
bracken.  The  thrush,  hopping  over  the  tennis  lawn, 
pausing  from  time  to  time  listening  intently  for  the  sound 


Plumage  and  its   Meaning 

of  a  worm  coming  to  the  surface,  is  quite  conspicuous  ;  as 
he  perches  in  the  shadow  of  some  nearby  shrub,  even  the 
vigilant  cat  may  pass  him  by  unnoticed. 

Desert  birds  are,  with,  we  believe,  a  single  exception,  all 
sand-coloured.  Some  of  them  so  closely  resemble  their 
surroundings  that  they  rarely  seek  safety  in  flight,  but 
crouch  on  the  sand  and  rely  on  their  resemblance  to  the 
desert  soil  for  safety.  Often  very  interesting  modifications 
of  plumage  to  suit  the  surroundings  may  be  observed  in 
the  same  species  of  bird.  On  this  subject,  a  well-known 
naturalist,  writing  of  the  crested  larks  which  he  observed 
during  a  journey  from  the  Algerian  coast  to  the  desert, 
remarks :  "  They  gradually  became  browner  and  browner 
in  plumage  as  we  left  the  cultivated  districts  behind  and 
entered  the  Sahara,  until  on  the  actual  desert  itself  the 
individuals  of  this  species  presented  a  rich  sandy  brown, 
hue,  so  utterly  different  from  the  colour  characteristic  of 
the  cultivated  coastlands  that  naturalists  have  separated 
them  into  several  well-recognised  races." 

Shore  birds  are  equally  well  protected  as  regards  colour. 
The  little  ringed  plover,  who  so  cunningly  conceals  its 
eggs,  is  a  good  example.  Conspicuous  as  this  natty  bird 
appears  when  divorced  from  its  haunts,  it  is  difficult  to 
detect  as  it  runs  hither  and  thither  on  the  shingle  by  the 
seashore.  We  have  often  observed  these  conspicuously 
marked  birds  alight  on  an  expanse  of  shingle  and  have 
searched  for  them  through  powerful  field-glasses  without 
being  able  to  detect  their  whereabouts,  yet  one  would 
think  that  their  black  and  white  markings  would  show 
up  well.  Even  the  brightly  hued  oyster-catcher  is  well 
camouflaged  as  he  goes  about  his  business  on  the  shore. 
Many  of  these  shore  birds  nest  inland  and  at  that  season 
assume  plumage  which  would  render  them  plainly  visible 
on  the  sand  and  shingle.  The  knot  and  dunlin  have  this 
habit,  but  after  the  nesting  season  they  always  don  their 
sombre  garb  so  that  they  may  fish  unmolested  by  the  sea 
during  the  summer  and  autumn  months. 

147 


Plumage  and  its  Meaning 

Marsh  birds,  such  as  snipe,  bitterns  and  corn-crakes,  are 
amongst  the  most  remarkably  protected  of  all  birds,  as  far 
as  plumage  is  concerned.  Flecked  and  striped  as  they 
are  with  alternate  dark  and  light  shades  of  colour,  they 
harmonise  in  a  wonderful  manner  with  the  green  and 
russet-brown  grasses  and  sedges  which  they  haunt.  The 
common  bittern — we  call  him  common  to  distinguish  him 
from  other  bitterns,  though,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  he  is  nearly 
extinct  in  Britain — presents,  probably,  the  most  remark- 
able example  of  protective  colouring  in  all  birdland.  His 
plumage,  as  befits  his  habits,  is  exceptional  amongst  the 
herons.  Sulking  in  reed-beds,  he  is  well  clothed  for  the 
life  he  has  chosen.  His  breast  is  a  pale  fawn  striped  with 
brown.  When  he  wishes  to  escape  detection,  he  raises 
his  head  aloft  and  points  his  beak  to  the  sky,  so  that 
his  striped  breast  is  well  exposed.  In  this  position  he 
remains  motionless,  and  it  would  be  a  keen  eye  indeed 
that  could  say  certainly  which  was  the  breast  of  the 
bittern,  which  the  russet-brown  herbage. 

On  the  moors  the  same  tale  is  repeated.  The  red 
grouse,  a  bird  which  never  ranges  beyond  the  confines 
of  Great  Britain,  with  his  mottled  red-brown  coat, 
harmonises  exactly  with  the  ling'  and  heather  of  his 
native  moors  ;  and  well  he  knows  it,  for  when  surprised 
by  the  roadside  or  on  grassland,  where  he  often  goes  to 
sun  himself,  his  first  impulse  is  to  reach  the  heather,  which 
matches  his  plumage  so  well  that  the  risk  of  detection  is 
much  lessened. 

Marvellous  are  the  changes  of  raiment  which  the 
ptarmigan  assumes  to  suit  the  ever-changing  seasons.  As 
one  writer  has  stated,  the  bird  seems  to  be  in  a  chronic 
state  of  moulting.  "  In  the  spring  the  ptarmigan  is 
clothed  in  a  dress  of  dark  brown  mottled  with  yellowish- 
brown  tints  in  beautiful  harmony  with  the  mosses  and 
lichens.  In  autumn  the  bird  changes  this  dress  for  one  of 
pale  grey  vermiculated  with  black ;  or  rather  it  is  slowly 
changing  colour  all  the  summer  through  with  the  changing 


Plumage  and  its  Meaning 

aspect  of  its  haunts,  the  latter  tints  being  emphasised  at 
a  time  when  the  scanty  vegetation  is  scorched  up  and 
beginning  to  fade.  Then  comes  the  period  of  the  winter 
snows,  when  the  mountain-tops  are  draped  in  a  white 
pall  which  hangs  over  them  until  the  following  spring. 
But  the  ptarmigan  again  changes  its  dress  and  the  browns 
and  greys  are  discarded  and  a  plumage  of  dazzling 
whiteness  assumed  in  their  place.  White  ground  and 
white  birds  harmonise  together,  and  the  ptarmigan  lies 
safe  in  its  disguise  until,  with  the  melting  of  the  snow, 
his  browns  and  yellows  are  resumed  with  the  changing 
year  and  the  cycle  of  plumal  change  is  complete." 

In  the  Arctic  regions  many  birds  assume  this  summer 
plumage.  The  willow  grouse  is  dressed  in  brown  during 
the  summer  and  assumes  white  raiment  for  the  winter. 
The  snowy  owl  and  Arctic  falcon  have  permanently  white 
apparel.  The  snow  bunting,  who  frequents  the  droppings 
of  animals,  is  black  and  white,  an  admixture  which  owing 
to  his  peculiar  habits  renders  him  less  conspicuous  than 
would  be  the  case  were  he  pure  white.  A  curious  case  is 
that  of  the  jet-black  raven,  who  retains  his  funeral  garb 
even  in  the  Arctic  circles,  and  so  becomes  a  conspicuous 
object.  But  the  raven  is  well  able  to  take  care  of  himself 
and  requires  no  plumal  aids  to  help  him  through  the 
world. 

Having  briefly  reviewed  various  avian  liveries  which  are 
obviously  designed  for  the  protection  of  the  wearers,  let 
us  pass  to  certain  bright  markings  which  render  their 
owners  conspicuous  and  for  a  purpose.  What  is  the 
object  of  these  showy  markings?  Their  possessors  are 
birds  which  live  in  flocks  for  the  most  part,  and  the  con- 
spicuous markings  of  the  individuals  serve  a  useful  purpose 
as  identification  marks  for  those  birds  which  may  stray 
from  the  flock.  In  addition  to  their  garb,  these  gregarious 
birds  usually  give  vent  to  certain  call  notes,  with  the 
further  object  of  enabling  the  members  of  the  flock  to 
keep  in  touch  with  one  another.  A  party  of  long-tailed 

149 


Plumage  and  its  Meaning 

tits,  for  instance,  on  hunting  bent,  keep  up  an  incessant 
twittering  all  the  while.  Should  one,  more  fortunate  than 
his  fellows,  come  upon  a  plentiful  supply  of  food,  he  raises 
his  voice  as  a  signal  to  the  others  to  share  in  his  good 
fortune. 

Some  of  our  commonest  finches,  moderately  brightly 
marked,  when  viewed  at  close  quarters,  are  decidedly 
inconspicuous  as  they  hop  from  branch  to  branch  of  some 
favoured  tree,  so  much  so  that  even  the  experienced  bird- 
man  may  have  some  difficulty  in  distinguishing  them  from 
others  of  a  different  species.  One  glimpse  of  these  same 
birds  on  the  wing  and  their  identity  is  unmistakably 
revealed :  the  green-finch  by  his  golden  wing  bands,  the 
chaf-finch  by  his  black  and  white  markings,  the  bull-finch 
by  his  white  rump.  It  is  certain  that  these  identification 
marks  serve  the  birds  themselves  in  good  stead  when  they 
desire  to  keep  in  close  company.  The  common  sight  of 
a  couple  of  bull-finches  hunting  in  company,  the  one 
following  the  other  from  tree  to  tree,  tells  us  as  much  if 
we  can  read  nature  aright.  Jays,  again,  are  barely  dis- 
tinguishable from  their  surroundings  when  not  in  flight, 
but  once  their  wings  are  spread,  the  conspicuous  blue 
marks  thereon  proclaim  their  identity  far  and  wide. 
Ring-doves  also  give  themselves  away  in  flight  by  the 
white  markings  on  their  wings. 

Of  conspicuous  tail  markings  there  are  plenty.  We\ 
have  already  cited  the  white  rump  of  the  bull-finch.  The 
common  and  the  black  redstart  have  similar  tail  markings. 
When  their  tails  are  folded,  only  sombre  colours  are 
visible  ;  in  flight,  however,  with  tails  spread,  a  bright 
chestnut  recognition  patch  is  displayed. 

The  white,  upturned  tail  of  the  rabbit  serves  a  useful 
purpose,  though  it  also  provides  a  good  mark  for  the 
sportsman  armed  with  a  gun  to  the  rabbit's  undoing.  As 
the  rabbit  makes  for  its  burrow  when  alarmed,  the  tails  of 
the  foremost  animals  serve  as  guides  for  those  behind, 
enabling  them  to  seek  shelter  with  the  least  possible 


Plumage  and  its  Meaning 

delay.  Amongst  birds  an  almost  parallel  case  is  afforded 
by  the  water-hen  :  the  under  side  of  this  bird's  erect  tail  is 
white.  The  peculiar  and  constant  flicks  which  the  water- 
hen  is  in  the  habit  of  giving  to  its  tail  seem  to  render  it 
unduly  conspicuous.  It  is  a  shy  bird,  only  venturing 
from  its  reedy  haunts  to  the  open  water  when  it  feels 
certain  that  there  is  no  risk  of  danger  and  when  the  calls 
of  hunger  compel  it  to  do  so.  On  the  least  alarm  it  darts 
for  cover  and  is  soon  lost  to  view.  Birds  of  its  kind  on 
a  hunting  cruise,  seeing  the  white  tail  making  for  shelter, 
take  the  hint  and  beat  a  hasty  retreat,  without  loss  of 
time.  Seeing  that  the  water-hen  usually  ventures  in  the 
open  towards  evening,  its  white  tail  serves  as  a  better 
guide,  in  the  failing  light,  than  would  any  other  colour. 

There  are  recognition  or  identification  marks  innumer- 
able in  the  bird  world :  it  is  easy  to  pick  them  out  and 
forms  a  fascinating  study.  A  striking  point,  yet  a  natural 
one,  is  that  in  almost  every  instance  they  can  best  be 
seen  when  the  bird  is  viewed  from  behind.  Birds  flying 
towards  one  another  do  not  need  these  marks ;  it  is  the 
bird  that  is  left  in  the  rear  which  requires  assistance  in 
catching  up  its  fellows.  "  This  recognition  is  of  the  most 
vital  importance  when  upon  it  depends  the  keeping 
together  of  a  bird  or  flock,  the  following  of  the  parent  by 
the  young  or  the  close  association  of  the  sexes,  either  for 
reproduction,  mutual  protection  or  search  for  sustenance 
or  lastly  the  quick  following  of  some  conspicuous  leader 
to  a  safe  refuge  when  threatened  by  danger." 

Of  the  brilliant  and  often  bizarre  plumage  assumed  by 
birds  in  the  mating  season  we  have  something  to  say  in 
our  chapter  on  Courtship.  The  feathers  which  make  up 
a  bird's  plumage  are  not  all  of  the  same  kind,  and  the 
down  of  nestlings  is  obviously  vastly  different  to  the 
quill  feathers  of  the  adult  bird,  but  we  are  not  concerned 
with  questions  of  structure. 

There  is,  however,  one  kind  of  feather,  which  only 
occurs  on  certain  birds,  of  so  peculiar  a  nature  that  we 


Plumage  and  its  Meaning 

must  give  a  few  words  to  it.  These  feathers,  known  as 
powder-down,  are  so  constructed  that  at  the  slightest 
touch  they  break  up  into  a  fine  white  powder.  This 
powder-down  is  to  be  found  on  parrots,  herons  and  hawks, 
and  its  use  is  not  fully  understood.  "  There  is  a  tradition 
— quite  unfounded — to  the  effect  that  in  the  heron  tribe 
this  powder-down  is  luminous,  and  that  the  birds  take 
advantage  of  luminosity  by  raising  the  contour  feathers 
so  as  to  shed  this  light  on  the  water  wherein  they  may  be 
fishing,  and  thereby  lure  their  prey  to  within  striking 
distance.  As  these  birds  do  not  fish  by  night,  and  the 
glow  would  be  invisible  by  day,  this  theory  may  be 
regarded  as  exploded." 


152 


CHAPTER   XIII 
COURTSHIP 

COURTSHIP  and  animal  ingenuity,  how  can  they  be  recon- 
ciled ?  A  little  time  spent  in  the  consideration  of  a  few 
examples  of  courtship  amongst  birds  and  some  beasts 
will  supply  the  best  answer  to  our  question.  The  court- 
ing swain,  about  to  visit  his  sweetheart,  doffs  his  working 
clothes  if  he  be  a  wise  man  and  dons  his  Sunday  best, 
which,  though  probably  of  more  striking  appearance, 
frequently  do  not  befit  him  so  well  as  his  workaday  garb. 
She  on  her  part  is  lavish  with  her  finery,  according  to  her 
means  and  taste;  her  favourite  perfume,  too,  is  not  forgotten. 
The  young  couple — sometimes  they  are  old  and  then  they 
are  more  foolish — bedeck  themselves  thus  that  they  may 
appear  more  attractive  in  the  eyes  of  their  respective 
lovers.  Savages  suffer  from  the  same  complaint  in  more 
or  less  acute  form  and  the  habit  has  its  counterpart  in  the 
animal  world. 

Finery,  sometimes  grotesque  in  its  extravagance,  scent, 
weird  antics,  all-  play  their  parts  in  the  attempt  to  attract 
the  opposite  sex.  The  weaver-birds,  builders  of  curious 
flask-shaped  nests,  in  winter-time  are  no  more  brightly 
attired  than  sparrows ;  but  when  the  male  is  about  to 
take  a  mate  he  assumes  gorgeous  raiment  which  renders 
him  an  Adonis  among  birds  in  the  eyes  of  the  hen.  The 
cock  wydah  birds  at  this  season  develop  tails  of  such  un- 
wieldy proportions  that  flight  is  rendered  difficult,  and  for 
the  same  reason. 

Song  also  plays  its  part  in  the  amorous  competition. 
True,  the  lovers'  notes  are  not  always  pleasing  to  human 
ears,  but  they  are  evidently  enchanting  to  the  hen  birds. 
The  cuckoo  is  a  case  in  point.  When  he  seeks  a  mate  his 

153 


Courtship 

well-known  call  note  may  be  heard  in  the  land  by  all  who 
deign  to  lend  an  ear.  His  purpose  accomplished,  his 
voice  becomes  harsh,  a  mere  croak  in  fact,  and  at  times  he 
literally  stammers.  It  is  utterly  impossible  to  give  voice 
to  his  cry  in  his  pre-mating  manner. 

Weird  dances,  a  swaggering  gait,  even  extraordinary 
contortions  are  all  part  and  parcel  of  the  allurements 
spread  to  catch  a  mate.  Man  has  seized  upon  this 
peculiarity  and  developed  it  to  his  own  ends.  The 
common  pigeon,  on  love-making  intent,  puffs  out  his  crop, 
the  better  to  exhibit  the  fine  feathers  of  his  neck  and 
breast  to  the  admiring  gaze  of  his  lady-love.  By  careful 
selection  a  race  of  pigeons,  known  as  pouters,  has  been 
evolved.  These  pigeons  are  able  to  make  their  crops  swell 
to  enormous  proportions;  they  are  simply  deformities; 
though,  of  course,  pigeon  fanciers  will  not  be  with  us  on 
this  point.  The  males  of  other  birds  are  often  particularly 
attractive  in  their  colouring  ;  the  peacock  is  one  of  these, 
and  they  are  many.  Most  interesting  of  all,  perhaps,  are 
those  birds  which  build  houses  and  bring  presents  for 
their  future  wives,  and  this,  indeed,  is  the  fashion  amongst 
the  bower-birds. 

Having  viewed  the  matter  thus  far,  can  we  deny  that, 
consciously  or  unconsciously,  male  birds  exhibit  a  high 
degree  of  ingenuity  in  their  attempts  to  attract  the 
opposite  sex?  With  the  females  the  case  is  often  different, 
for  many  of  them  are  coy  and  blase  in  turns  when  in  the 
presence  of  their  mates,  whose  annoyance  at  their  seeming 
indifference  is  frequently  ill  concealed. 

Courtship  among  birds  is  interesting  to  the  outsider, 
who  is  said  to  see  most  of  the  game ;  moreover,  it  has 
been  more  closely  studied  and  is  therefore  better  known 
than  is  the  same  phase  in  the  lives  of  any  other  members 
of  the  animal  kingdom.  Certain  fishes  also  assume 
brilliant  hues  at  courting  time.  A  few  insects,  some 
spiders,  scorpions  and  crabs  are  eccentric  in  their  love- 
making,  but  it  is  to  the  birds  that  we  must  turn  for  gorgeous 

154 


Courtship 

display,  weird  dances  and  extraordinary  vocal  efforts. 
The  higher  animals,  curiously  enough,  are  often  brutal  in 
their  love-making. 

Of  all  birds,  the  most  extravagantly  arrayed  are  the 
birds  of  paradise ;  sometimes,  indeed,  they  are  bizarre  in 
their  adornment.  For  dazzling  beauty,  few  can  compare 
with  the  king  bird  of  paradise.  Sad  to  relate,  his  beauty 
has  cost  him  dear,  for  he  is  no  stranger  to  the  wardrobe 
of,  shall  we  say  thoughtless,  ladies,  who  never  give  one 
moment's  thought  to  the  fact  that  to  satisfy  their  vanity 
there  must  be  one  of  Nature's  living  gems  the  less  in  the 
world. 

The  king  bird  of  paradise  is  not  a  big  bird,  hardly  as 
large  as  a  wood  pigeon  in  fact.  Of  a  rich  vermilion 
colour,  with  an  orange  head  and  a  white  breast  barred 
with  shimmering  green,  light  blue  legs  and  a  pair  of 
wire-like  tail  feathers  nearly  a  foot  in  length  and  each 
terminated  by  a  special  coil  of  vivid  green,  he  cuts  a 
striking  figure. 

For  an  account  of  the  curious  courtship  displayed  by 
this  jewel  of  a  bird  we  make  no  excuse  for  quoting  Sir 
William  Ingram,  for  he  has  kept  the  king  bird  of  paradise 
in  captivity  and  frequently  observed  his  behaviour.  Sir 
William  says :  "  He  always  commences  his  display  by  giving 
forth  several  short  notes  and  squeaks,  sometimes  resembling 
the  call  of  a  quail,  sometimes  the  whine  of  a  pet  dog. 
Next  he  spreads  out  his  wings,  occasionally  quite  hiding 
his  head,  at  times,  stretched  upright  he  flaps  them,  as  if 
he  intended  to  take  to  flight,  and  then,  with  a  sudden 
movement,  gives  himself  a  half  turn,  so  that  he  faces  the 
spectators,  puffing  out  his  silky  white  lower  feathers ; 
now  he  bursts  into  his  beautiful,  melodious,  warbling  song, 
so  enchanting  to  hear  but  so  difficult  to  describe. 

"  Some  weeks  ago  I  was  crossing  a  meadow  and  heard 
the  song  of  a  skylark  high  up  in  the  heavens  and  I 
exclaimed  at  once,  '  That  is  the  love  chant  of  my  king 
bird.'  He  sings  a  low  babbling  note,  displaying  all  the 

155 


Courtship 

while  his  beautiful  fan-like  side  plumes,  which  he  opens 
and  closes  in  time  with  the  variations  of  his  song.  These 
fan  plumes  can  only  be  expanded  when  his  wings  are 
closed,  and  during  this  part  of  the  display  he  closes  his 
wings  and  spreads  out  his  short  tail,  pressing  it  close  over 
his  back,  so  as  to  throw  the  long  tail  wires  over  his  head 
while  he  gently  swings  his  body  from  side  to  side.  The 
spiral  tips  of  the  wires  look  like  small  balls  of  burnished 
green  metal,  and  the  swaying  movement  gives  them  the 
effect  of  being  slowly  tossed  from  one  side  to  the  other, 
so  that  I  have  named  this  part  of  the  display  the  juggling. 
The  swaying  of  the  body  seems  to  keep  time  with  the 
song,  and  at  intervals,  with  a  swallowing  movement  of  his 
throat,  the  bird  raises  and  lowers  his  head.  Then  comes 
the  finale,  which  lasts  only  a  few  seconds.  He  suddenly 
turns  right  round  and  shows  his  back,  the  white  fluffy 
feathers  under  the  tail  bristling  in  his  excitement ;  he 
bends  down  on  the  perch  in  the  attitude  of  a  fighting  cock, 
his  widely  opened  bill  showing  distinctly  the  extraordinary 
light  apple-green  colour  of  the  inside  of  his  mouth,  and 
sings  the  same  gurgling  notes  without  once  closing  his 
bill,  and  with  a  slow  dying-away  movement  of  his  tail 
and  body.  A  single  drawn-out  note  is  then  uttered,  the 
tail  and  wires  are  lowered,  and  the  dance  and  song  are  over. 
"  The  king  bird  has  another  form  of  display  which  he 
very  rarely  exhibits,  and  only  on  three  or  four  occasions 
have  I  seen  him  go  through  this  performance.  Dropping 
under  the  perch,  the  bird  walks  backwards  and  forwards 
in  an  inverted  position  with  his  wings  expanded.  Sud- 
denly he  closes  his  wings  and  lets  his  body  fall  straight 
downwards,  looking  exactly  like  a  crimson  pear,  his  blue 
legs  being  stretched  out  to  the  full  length  and  his  feet 
clinging  to  the  perch.  The  effect  is  very  curious  and 
weird,  and  the  performance  is  so  like  that  of  an  acrobat 
suddenly  dropping  on  to  his  toes  on  the  cross-bar  of  a 
trapeze  that  I  have  named  this  the  acrobatic  display.  It 
has  been  witnessed  on  different  days  to  his  juggling 

150 


Courtship 

display.  While  giving  his  acrobatic  display  he  sings  the 
whole  time,  but  never  shows  his  side  plumes,  and  when  he 
is  in  the  pendulous  position  his  body  sways  gently  as  if  it 
were  influenced  by  a  fitful  breeze.  The  whole  of  this  per- 
formance takes  but  a  very  few  seconds." 

From  the  bejewelled  king  bird  of  paradise  to  the  rela- 
tively sombre  great  crested  grebe  is  a  far  cry  as  far  as 
appearance  is  concerned.  The  male  king  bird  performs 
his  strange  rites  to  attract  his  mate ;  both  male  and 
female  grebe  take  part  in  the  eccentricities  of  love-making. 
Many  years  ago  we  remember  witnessing  this  avian 
pantomime  of  the  grebes,  on  a  Midland  mere.  At  that 
time  we  did  not  fully  understand  the  purport  of  the  birds' 
behaviour.  The  male  and  female  grebe  are  as  similar  in 
appearance  as  the  proverbial  two  peas.  Their  necks  are 
ornamented  with  a  light  brown  ruff  and  their  heads  with 
darker  brown  feathers  of  such  a  nature  as  to  give  them 
the  appearance  of  being  eared ;  their  breasts  are  snowy 
white. 

At  the  time  of  courting,  when  the  grebes,  maybe,  are 
quietly  feeding  on  some  secluded  waterway,  a  pair  will 
suddenly  face  one  another  and  begin  wagging  their  heads 
from  side  to  side.  After  a  moment  or  two  of  this  pantomime 
the  male  bird  dives,  but  his  mate  still  wags  her  head. 
Her  companion  then  rises  slowly  and  gently  from  the 
water  in  front  of  her.  At  first  only  his  head  appears 
above  the  water  level,  but  by  degrees  his  back,  his  body, 
all  of  him  in  fact,  is  displayed  to  the  admiring  gaze  of  his 
spouse;  a  few  more  head-waggings  and  courtship  gives 
place  to  the  more  material  business  of  seeking  food.  At 
times  this  strange  procedure  is  varied  by  antics  more 
extraordinary.  As  usual,  the  head-wagging  preliminaries 
are  indulged  in,  then  both  birds  dive  and  remain  below 
water  for  a  short  time,  eventually  coming  to  the  surface 
some  distance  apart,  when  they  contrive  to  lie  almost 
prone  upon  the  water.  Next  they  travel  rapidly  towards 
one  another,  and  when  they  have  almost  collided  both 

157 


Courtship 

rise  into  an  erect  position  with  beaks,  in  which  a  piece  of 
water  weed  is  held,  nearly  touching.  Tiring  of  their  per- 
formance, they  cast  away  their  burdens,  resume  their  head- 
wagging  for  a  time  and  eventually  return  to  their  feeding. 
The  comical  antics  of  these  whimsical  birds  may  be 
aptly  described  as  one  of  Nature's  pantomimes. 

Another  curious  performance  is  enacted  by  the  ruffs. 
By  a  strange  coincidence  the  ruff,  like  the  great  crested 
grebe,  has  feathery  "ears"  and  a  voluminous  ruff — from 
which  he  takes  his  name — just  behind  his  head.  Perhaps 
these  "  eared  "  birds,  by  reason  of  the  unusual  arrangement 
of  their  feathers,  appear  more  eccentric  than  they  would  do 
were  they  more  normally  clad.  The  ruff  is  a  long-legged, 
long-beaked  bird,  closely  related  to  the  snipe,  and  is 
peculiar  in  the  fact  that  no  two  individuals  are  ever  exactly 
alike,  in  colour  or  in  markings. 

The  courtship  in  these  birds  begins  with  a  tournament 
on  the  part  of  the  males  for  the  possession  of  the  females 
— each  ruff  may  have  several  wives.  Very  early  in  the 
morning,  just  about  sunrise,  in  fact,  these  tourneys  begin. 
A  couple  of  ruffs  will  puff  out  their  neck  feathers,  face  one 
another  and  stand  perfectly  motionless,  with  the  tips  of 
their  long  beaks  resting  on  the  ground.  After  a  period 
which  appears  unduly  prolonged  they  attack  one  another, 
but  not  very  fiercely,  their  object,  apparently,  being  not  to 
cause  bloodshed,  but  simply  that  one  of  the  suitors  should 
be  driven  from  the  field.  The  more  courageous  ruffs, 
having  got  rid  of  their  rivals,  compete  for  the  favours  of 
the  hens.  The  ruff  is  a  persistent  suitor,  and  he  need  be, 
for  a  more  blase  mate  than  the  hen  bird,  or  reeve  as  she  is 
called,  it  would  be  hard  to  find. 

Time  and  again  the  male  will  force  his  attentions  on  his 
mate,  only  to  be  as  frequently  rebuffed.  He  displays  his 
"  ears  "  and  ruff  to  the  best  of  his  ability  before  the  lady 
bird  and  rests  his  beak  upon  the  ground  the  while  he 
appears  lost  in  thought ;  she,  on  her  part,  will  as  likely 
as  not  run  or  fly  away  before  her  mate  has  completed 

158 


Courtship 

his  day-dreams.  Then  the  hunt  begins  again,  and  the 
performance  is  repeated  many  times,  till,  eventually, 
doggedness  has  its  reward  and  the  ruff  wins  his  lady- 
love. 

The  ruffs  are  not  the  only  birds  that  select  the  chill 
hour  of  sunrise  for  their  amatory  displays  ;  prairie  hens 
hold  meetings  at  the  same  hour.  The  cocks  and  hens 
collect  together  at  some  spot  which  is  evidently  pre- 
arranged and  the  performance  commences  with  a  display 
of  finery  by  the  males,  who  are  adept  at  exhibiting  them- 
selves to  the  best  advantage.  Shall  we  call  them  the 
mannequins  of  the  bird  world  ?  Up  and  down  they  strut 
for  the  admiration  of  the  hens.  But  this  dilatory  parade 
soon  becomes  wearisome  to  the  excited  males ;  so,  to 
enliven  the  proceedings,  they  rush  pell-mell  amongst  their 
admirers,  uttering  loud  cries  the  while.  As  the  sun 
arises  well  above  the  horizon,  the  party  breaks  up,  but 
the  performance  is  repeated  morning  after  morning 
for,  maybe,  a  fortnight.  Towards  the  end  of  this  time 
the  friendly  rivalry  of  the  males  gives  place  to  fierce 
competition  for  the  favours  of  the  hens  and  eventually  to 
fighting. 

The  peacock  displaying  his  tail  coverts  in  the  presence 
of  his  mate  is  merely  showing  her  what  a  fine  fellow  he 
is,  and  it  must  be  admitted  that  he  makes  out  a  very  good 
case  for  himself.  With  his  body  inclined  forwards,  and 
his  brilliant  tail  coverts  thrown  over  his  wings  so  that 
only  they  and  his  head  and  neck  appear  from  the  front, 
he  makes  a  brave  show,  which  his  spouse  does  not  always 
fully  appreciate,  in  fact  we  have  seen  her  making  up  to 
another  male  at  the  time,  totally  disregarding  the  ex- 
hibition prepared  for  her  benefit.  While  he  is  actually 
courting  his  wife,  he  is  rude  enough  to  walk  backwards 
towards  her,  and  not  without  reason.  His  back  view  is 
sombre  in  tjie  extreme  compared  with  the  other  side  of 
the  picture.  When  close  to  his  mate,  he  wheels  round 
with  astonishing  rapidity  and  faces  her,  and,  as  though 

159 


Courtship 

to  draw  attention  to  his  dazzling  brilliancy,  thus 
suddenly  displayed,  he  literally  rattles  his  long  tail 
coverts  and  lowers  his  head  in  respectful  homage.  The 
ill-mannered  hen  usually  ignores  his  efforts  to  win  her 
affections. 

The  bower-birds,  which  are  related  to  our  common 
starlings,  are  among  the  most  curious  of  birds,  as  far  as 
their  behaviour  is  concerned.  The  males  build  wonderful 
shelters  of  sticks  and  other  material  and  ornament  them 
for  the  benefit  of  the  hens  they  hope  to  win.  By  some 
naturalists  it  is  thought  that  the  hens  select  as  mates  the 
birds  which  build  the  best  bowers  and  shelters ;  for  note 
that  the  males  alone  are  concerned  in  the  building  of 
these  remarkable  structures.  The  bowers  vary  archi- 
tecturally according  to  the  species,  but,  in  general,  they 
take  the  form  of  short  tunnels.  At  the  entrance  the  males 
place  all  the  bright-coloured  objects  they  can  collect, 
bits  of  ribbon,  shells,  old  bleached  bones,  etc. 

When  the  male  is  courting,  he  takes  some  gaudy  flower 
in  his  beak,  or  a  shell  maybe,  and  chases  the  object  of 
his  affections  through  and  around  the  bower,  the  while  he 
gives  vent  to  a  strange  whistling  note  and  droops  his 
wings  alternately.  One  species  of  bower-bird  decorates 
the  entrance  to  his  shelter  in  lavish  manner.  First  of 
all  he  lays  down  a  carpet  of  the  greenest  moss  he 
can  find,  and  on  this  carpet,  which  he  keeps  scrupu- 
lously clear  of  rubbish,  he  arranges  flowers,  fruits  and 
brightly  coloured  fungi.  As  these  transient  decorations 
wither,  they  are  thrown  away  and  replaced  by  fresh 
material. 

Yet  another  species  has  other  architectural  ideas  and, 
instead  of  the  usual  tunnel,  he  constructs  a  giant  pyramid, 
often  six  feet  high,  and  decorates  its  walls  with  flowers. 
On  the  other  hand,  there  are  bower-birds  which  build  no 
bowers,  merely  clearing  a  patch  of  ground  on  which  the 
better  to  display  their  good  looks  before  the  females.  In 
any  event,  the  bowers  are  nothing  to  do  with  the  nests, 

160 


PLAY-HOUSE  OF  A  GARDENER  BOWER-BIRD 

These  birds  (AmMverm's  subalaris)  construct  a  beautiful  domed  hut  around  a  small 
tree  or  shrub,  which  they  interlace  with  twigs.  At  the  foot  of  the  tree,  inside  the  hut, 
they  build  up  a  bank  of  moss  and  decorate  it  with  flowers.  In  this  pretty  pavilion  they 
spend  many  hours  at  play. 


Courtship 

they  are  simply  built  by  the  males  for  the  delectation  of 
the  opposite  sex. 

Every  male  bird  by  his  colouring,  his  antics,  his  vocal 
powers  or  his  fighting  capacity  does  his  utmost  to  appear 
in  favourable  light  before  the  females.  From  the  drab 
sparrow  to  the  gorgeous  bird  of  paradise,  there  is  no 
exception.  Having  won  the  affections  of  the  trustful  hen, 
a  consummation  which  is  not  always  easily  brought 
about,  he  frequently  lapses  from  the  path  of  virtue  and 
sometimes  becomes  a  veritable  tyrant. 

Courtship  amongst  insects  is  rare.  Lord  Avebury 
gives  an  amusing  account  of  the  efforts  of  a  springtail  to 
win  a  bride.  He  says :  "  It  is  very  amusing  to  see  these 
little  creatures  coquetting  together.  The  male,  which  is 
much  smaller  than  the  female,  runs  round  her  and  they 
butt  one  another,  standing  face  to  face  and  moving  back- 
wards and  forwards  like  two  playful  lambs.  Then  the 
female  pretends  to  run  away  and  the  male  runs  after  her. 
With  a  queer  appearance  of  anger,  he  gets  in  front  and 
stands  facing  her  again ;  then  she  turns  coyly  round,  but 
he,  quicker  and  more  active,  scuttles  round  too,  and  seems 
to  whip  her  with  his  antennae ;  then  for  a  bit  they  stand 
face  to  face,  play  with  their  antennae  and  seem  to  be  all 
in  all  to  one  another." 

Several  species  of  spiders  are  adepts  at  courtship.  Mr 
and  Mrs  Peckham  have  described  their  antics  from  actual 
observation  in  the  following  words  (a  male  and  female 
were  placed  together  in  a  box)  : — "  He  saw  her  as  she 
stood  perfectly  still,  twelve  inches  away ;  the  glance 
seemed  to  excite  him  and  he  moved  towards  her ;  when 
some  four  inches  from  her  he  stood  still,  and  then  began 
the  most  remarkable  performance  that  an  amorous  male 
could  offer  to  an  admiring  female.  She  eyed  him  eagerly, 
changing  her  position  from  time  to  time  so  that  he  might 
be  always  in  view.  He,  raising  his  whole  body  on  one 
side  by  straightening  out  the  legs,  and  lowering  it  on  the 
other  by  folding  the  first  two  pairs  of  legs  up  and  under, 
L  161 


Courtship 

leans  so  far  over  as  to  be  in  danger  of  losing  his  balance, 
which  he  only  maintains  by  sidling  rapidly  towards  the 
lowered  one.  The  palpus,  too,  on  this  side  was  turned 
back  to  correspond  to  the  direction  of  the  legs  nearest  to 
it.  He  moved  in  a  semicircle  for  about  two  inches,  and 
then  instantly  reversed  the  position  of  the  legs  and  circled 
in  the  opposite  direction,  gradually  approaching  nearer 
and  nearer  to  the  female.  Now  she  dashes  towards  him, 
while  he,  raising  his  first  pair  of  legs,  extends  them 
upwards  and  forwards  as  if  to  hold  her  off,  but  withal 
slowly  retreats.  Again  and  again  he  circles  from  side  to 
side,  she  gazing  towards  him  in  a  softer  mood,  evidently 
admiring  the  grace  of  his  antics.  This  is  repeated  until 
we  have  counted  one  hundred  and  eleven  circles  made  by 
the  ardent  little  male.  Now  he  approaches  nearer  and 
nearer,  and  when  almost  within  reach  whirls  madly 
around  and  around  her,  she  joining  and  whirling  with 
him  in  a  giddy  maze." 

Of  another  species  these  observers  write :  "  A  dozen 
or  more  males,  and  about  half  as  many  females,  were 
assembled  together  within  the  length  of  one  of  the  rails. 
The  males  were  rushing  hither  and  thither,  dancing 
opposite  now  one  female,  now  another ;  often  two  males 
met  each  other,  when  a  short  passage  of  arms  followed. 
They  waved  their  first  legs,  sidled  back  and  forth,  and 
then  rushed  together  and  clinched,  but  quickly  separated^, 
neither  being  hurt,  only  to  run  off  in  search  of  fairer 
foes." 

Fabre,  than  whom  no  keener  student  of  nature  ever 
existed,  described  the  courtship  of  scorpions,  and 
Warburton,  inspired  by  him,  writes  the  following  quaint 
words :  "  After  some  very  curious  antics,  in  which  the 
animals  stood  face  to  face  with  raised  tails,  which  they 
intertwined  .  .  .  they  always  indulged  in  what  Fabre 
calls  a  promenade  a  deux  hand  in  hand,  so  to  speak,  the 
male  seizing  the  pincers  of  the  female  with  his  own  and 
walking  backwards,  while  the  female  followed,  usually 

162 


Courtship 

without  any  reluctance.  This  promenade  occupied  an 
hour  or  more,  during  which  the  animals  turned  several 
times.  At  length,  if  in  the  neighbourhood  of  a  suitable 
stone,  the  male  would  dig  a  hole,  without  for  a  moment 
entirely  quitting  his  hold  of  the  female,  and  presently 
both  would  disappear  into  the  newly  formed  retreat." 

Crabs  are  not  exactly  the  creatures  that  one  would 
expect  to  show  any  amorous  proclivities,  yet  some  of  them 
certainly  do  so.  Colonel  Alcock  relates  the  story  of  the 
amorous  fiddler-crabin  the  followingpicturesque  manner: — 
"  Landing  one  afternoon  in  March  upon  a  cheerful  mud- 
flat  of  the  Godavari  sea-face,  I  was  bewildered  by  the 
sight  of  a  multitude  of  small  pink  objects  twinkling  in 
the  sun,  and  always,  like  will-o'-the-wisps,  disappearing 
as  I  came  near  to  them,  but  flashing  brightly  on  ahead  as 
far  as  the  eye  could  reach. 

"  It  was  not  until  I  stayed  perfectly  quiet  that  I  discovered 
that  these  twinkling  gems  were  the  brandished  nippers  of 
a  host  of  male  fiddler-crabs.  By  long  watching  I  found 
out  that  the  little  creatures  were  waving  their  nippers 
with  a  purpose — the  purpose  apparently  being  to  attract 
the  attention  of  an  occasional  infrequent  female,  who, 
uncertain,  coy,  and  hard  to  please,  might  be  seen  uncon- 
cernedly sifting  the  sand  at  the  mouth  of  her  burrow.  If 
this  demure  little  flirt  happened  to  creep  near  the  burrow 
of  one  of  the  males,  then  that  favoured  individual  became 
frantic  with  excitement,  dancing  round  his  domain  on  tip- 
toe and  waving  his  great  cheery  hand  as  if  demented. 
Then,  if  another  male,  burning  with  jealousy,  showed  a 
desire  to  interfere,  the  two  puny  little  suitors  would  make 
savage  back-handed  swipes  at  one  another,  wielding  their 
cumbrous  hands  as  if  they  had  no  weight  at  all. 

"  Unfortunately,  though  I  spent  many  a  precious  hour  on 
the  watch  from  time  to  time,  I  could  never  see  that  these 
combats  came  to  anything ;  the  males  seemed  always  to 
be  in  a  state  of  passionate  excitement  and  the  females 
to  be  always  indifferent  and  unconcerned ;  and  though 

163 


Courtship 

the  dismembered  chelipeds  of  vanquished  males  could 
often  be  seen  lying  on  the  battle-field,  I  have  never  had 
the  satisfaction  of  beholding  a  good  stand-up  fight,  fought 
out  to  the  sweet  end,  or  a  female  rewarding  a  successful 
champion  with  her  heartless  person." 


CHAPTER   XIV 

QUEER   FRIENDSHIPS 

IN  the  animal  world  there  are  very  many  examples  of 
the  most  extraordinary  friendships ;  animals  of  the  most 
diverse  kinds  live  together,  wholly  or  partially,  and 
usually  to  their  mutual  benefit.  This  friendship  or 
commensalism,  as  it  is  called  by  naturalists,  reaches  its 
highest  development  among  the  ants.  These  social 
insects  are  surrounded,  either  designedly  or  accidentally, 
by  more  friends  and  cadgers  than  any  other  insects ; 
moreover,  they  have  domesticated  some  of  these  outsiders. 
Green-fly,  scale  insects,  tree-hoppers,  lantern-flies,  jumping 
plant  lice  and  caterpillars  of  the  well-known  "  blues  "  are 
all  kept  by  ants  as  man  keeps  his  cattle. 

Let  us  study  an  ant  farm  wherein  green-fly  or  aphides 
are  the  cattle.  These  insects  make  ideal  cattle  for  ants 
by  reason  of  the  fact  that  they  live  huddled  together  at 
close  quarters  and  are  not  very  active,  especially  in  their 
wingless  stages.  The  aphides  attack  practically  all  plants 
except  ferns  ;  some  live  on  leaves,  some  on  stems,  others 
on  roots.  Most  of  them  live  on  the  surfaces  of  plants, 
but  a  few  inhabit  galls  of  their  own  making  and  therefore 
are  out  of  reach  of  the  would-be  farmers.  The  habits 
which  render  these  insects  so  accessible  to  ants  also 
expose  them  to  a  host  of  enemies,  but  of  these  more  anon. 
Green-flies  are  one  and  all  armed  with  sharp  pointed  beaks 
or  rostrums  with  which  they  pierce  plant  tissues  and  suck 
up  the  juices.  These  watery  juices  contain  sugar,  of  which 
a  very  small  portion  is  retained  by  the  green-fly  and  a 
large  portion  is  voided  as  excrement. 

The  dried  excrement  is  known  as  "  honey  dew  "  and, 
being  sweet,  is  much  sought  after  by  the  ant,  or  even  by 

165 


Queer  Friendships 

man — the  manna  of  the  Bible  is  "  honey  dew "  of  an 
aphis  which  feeds  on  the  tamarisk.  The  amount  of 
"honey  dew"  excreted  by  a  healthy  aphis  is  astonishing  ; 
the  maple  aphis  has  been  observed  to  void  forty-eight 
drops  in  an  hour.  "  A  source  of  nutriment  at  once  so 
rich  and  so  inexhaustible  could  hardly  remain  unnoticed 
and  unexploited  by  the  ants  in  their  interminable  search 
for  liquid  food." 

The  behaviour  of  ants  when  they  fall  in  with  a  colony 
of  green-fly  is  remarkable.  Before  the  ants  arrive  on  the 
scene  the  aphides  may  be  observed  to  discharge  their 
"  honey  dew"  to  a  considerable  distance.  In  the  presence 
of  the  ants,  the  droplets  are  simply  allowed  to  escape  and 
not  forcibly  expelled.  The  ants  wander  about  among 
the  aphides,  pausing  here  and  there,  and  frequently 
caressing  their  friends  on  either  side  of  their  bodies  with 
their  antennae.  This  gentle  stroking  causes  the  aphides 
to  void  "honey  dew,"  which  is  at  once  imbibed  by  the 
ants.  The  operation  is  repeated  again  and  again,  usually 
with  success,  but  sometimes  unsuccessfully.  In  the  latter 
event,  the  ant  wastes  no  time  with  the  aphid,  but  passes 
to  the  next  "cow"  in  the  hope  that  it  will  prove  more 
fruitful. 

Sometimes  the  ants  are  so  numerous  and  so  persistent 
in  their  attentions  that  the  aphides  literally  become  dried 
up,  then  the  only  available  course  open  to  the  ants  is  to 
wait  till  their  "  cattle "  have  pumped  up  a  fresh  supply, 
or  to  go  on  to  a  new  colony.  One  thing  is  certain,  an 
aphid  which  contains  "  honey  dew "  never  fails  to  give 
it  up  to  a  soliciting  ant,  in  fact  the  long-suffering  insects 
will  often  yield  drop  after  drop  in  succession  to  one  ant 
after  another. 

In  connection  with  the  well-authenticated  friendship  of 
ants  for  aphides,  a  very  ingenious  though  absolutely  in- 
accurate story  has  gone  the  rounds.  On  the  backs  of 
many,  though  not  of  all,  aphides  there  are  two  little 
projections  or  tubercles.  From  these,  it  has  been  stated, 

166 


Queer  Friendships 

the  ants  draw  the  sugary  liquid  of  which  they  are  so 
fond.  Pictures  have  been  painted  of  the  ants  imbibing 
droplets  from  the  tips  of  the  tubercles.  The  fact  remains, 
however,  that  the  tubercles  are  organs  of  defence,  as  the 
following  little  experiment  will  show.  If  the  grubs  of 
the  lacewing  fly  are  introduced  to  a  colony  of  aphides 
and  carefully  watched,  it  will  be  observed  that  the  active 
grubs  at  once  proceed  to  attack  their  fellow-insects,  which, 
in  fact,  form  their  natural  food.  Aphis  after  aphis  will 
be  seized  in  the  grub's  powerful  jaws  and  sucked  dry. 

Occasionally,  if  we  watch  carefully,  we  shall  observe 
that  there  is  a  hitch  in  the  usual  proceedings ;  the  aphis, 
so  to  speak,  gets  in  the  first  blow  and  discharges  a  sticky, 
wax-like  substance  from  its  tubercles  into  the  face  of  its 
enemy.  This  substance  hardens  at  once  and  forms  a 
veritable  mask  over  the  face  of  the  aggressive  grub,  to 
such  an  extent  that  it  is  forced  to  abandon  its  hunt  till 
it  has  cleaned  itself,  an  operation  which  takes  some  con- 
siderable time  and  permits  of  the  aphis  making  good 
its  escape.  Here  we  may  notice  a  very  interesting  and 
striking  fact — the  aphides  which  habitually  live  in  com- 
pany with  ants  have  either  no  tubercles  or  feebly  developed 
ones ;  those  which  are  not  visited  by  ants  have  these 
organs  well  developed.  Why  ?  The  ants  afford  protection 
to  the  green-fly  from  their  enemies  so  that  it  is  unnecessary 
for  them  to  be  provided  with  organs  of  defence. 

So  far  we  have  only  mentioned  the  visits  of  ants  to 
stray  colonies  of  aphides,  but  the  relationship  of  these  two 
kinds  of  insects  is  often  far  more  intimate.  Some  ants 
actually  farm  certain  aphides.  The  common  aphis  of  the 
Indian  corn  is  a  good  example,  so  we  will  relate  some  of 
the  observed  facts  concerning  this  insect.  The  green-fly 
eggs  are  laid  in  the  autumn  and  are  carried  by  the  ants 
into  their  underground  nests ;  here  they  are  tended 
throughout  the  winter ;  they  are  moved  about  with  great 
care  in  order  that  they  may  be  kept  in  suitable  climatic 
conditions. 

167 


Queer   Friendships 

In  the  spring,  when  the  young  aphides  hatch,  they  are 
transferred  by  the  ants  to  the  roots  of  various  wild  grasses. 
In  fine  weather  the  "cattle"  are  taken  from  their  roots 
and  placed  to  browse  on  the  grasses  above  ground,  but  in 
cold  weather  and  at  nights  they  are  taken  back  to  the 
ants'  nests.  No  mother  could  care  for  her  young  more 
tenderly  than  the  ants  tend  their  adopted  offspring.  As 
the  season  advances  and  the  Indian  corn  begins  to  grow, 
the  ants  transfer  their  charges  from  the  wild  grasses  to 
the  roots  of  the  cereal. 

Now  the  first-born  aphides  are  all  females  and  they 
soon  begin  to  lay  eggs  ;  these,  in  turn,  are  assiduously 
tended  by  the  ants,  till  at  length  a  large  colony  arises 
and  the  ants  are  kept  busy  transferring  their  charges  to 
the  most  favourable  feeding-grounds,  always  on  the  corn 
roots.  All  the  while  the  Indian  corn  plants  survive  and 
afford  nourishment  for  the  aphides  the  latter  are  entirely 
wingless.  When,  however,  the  roots  become  tough  and 
woody  or  shrivel  up,  a  generation  of  winged  and  wingless 
forms  arises. 

These  winged  forms  are  females  whose  one  desire  is 
to  escape  to  more  favourable  feeding-grounds.  The  ants, 
however,  not  to  be  balked  of  their  "cattle,"  clip  off  the 
wings  of  these  individuals,  so  that  escape  is  impossible,  and 
their  progeny  are,  therefore,  saved  to  the  ant  community. 
The  aphis  is  thus  wholly  dependent  upon  the  ant  for  its 
existence  and,  in  return,  yields  a  copious  supply  of 
"  honey  dew  "  to  its  insect  masters.  That  the  aphides  bear 
no  malice  to  their  masters  is  shown  in  many  ways  ;  except 
for  the  winged  forms,  they  never  attempt  to  escape  from 
captivity  nor  do  they  ever  use  their  tubercles  against  the 
ants  ;  moreover,  they  give  off  honey  dew  more  gently  and 
more  freely  when  attended  by  ants  than  when  living 
alone.  Ants,  on  the  other  hand,  never  kill  or  injure  their 
charges  as  they  frequently  do  other  defenceless  insects  ;  in 
fact,  they  protect  them.  They  place  them  in  the  most 
favourable  feeding-places,  build  chambers  round  them, 

168 


AN    INSECT    FREE-BOOTER,    AND   AN    INSECT    BEGGAR. 

The  extraordinary  looking  insect  shown  towards  the  top  is  the  lepismid,  or  fleet-foot,  who 
lives  by  stealing  food  from  ants  when  they  are  in  the  act  of  passing  it  from  one  to  the 
other.  The  atemeles  beetle  shown  below  is  begging  food,  which  will  not  be  refused,  from 
the  ant  in  front  of  him. 


Queer  Friendships 

scrape  earth  from  the  roots  so  that  they  may  obtain  their 
food  more  easily  and  attend  assiduously  to  their  eggs  and 
young. 

A  very  similar  relationship  also  exists  between  certain 
ants  and  some  scale  insects  which  also  give  off  "honey 
dew."  Frequently  the  ants  will  transfer  their  insect 
"  cattle  "  to  favourable  feeding-grounds  on  well-liked  trees 
or  shrubs  and  build  around  them  a  shed  of  woody  debris 
as  a  protection  against  enemies  and  inclement  weather. 
Adult  "blue"  butterflies  of  the  species  whose  caterpillars 
are  farmed  by  ants  appear  to  understand  the  situation  to 
a  nicety,  for  they  are  very  particular  as  to  where  they  lay 
their  eggs.  "  If  the  right  plant  has  no  ants,  or  the  ants  on 
that  plant  are  not  the  right  species,  the  butterfly  will  lay 
no  eggs  on  that  plant."  Some  caterpillars  will  certainly 
not  live  without  the  ants  and  many  are  extremely  un- 
comfortable when  brought  up  away  from  their  masters. 

One  of  these  peculiar  butterflies,  a  native  of  India  and 
Australia,  spends  its  whole  life  in  ants'  nests  and  is 
very  peculiarly  built  to  suit  it  for  the  life.  The  caterpillar 
from  which  the  ants  derive  their  "  honey  dew  "  has  a  horny 
skin  instead  of  the  soft  coat  which  clothes  most  cater- 
pillars. The  skin  also  forms  the  covering  of  the  chrysalis, 
as  in  flies,  a  most  peculiar  happening  amongst  butterflies 
but  useful  as  a  protection  in  the  absolutely  defenceless 
chrysalis  stage.  But  most  strange  of  all  is  the  butterfly 
itself,  which  would  probably  be  attacked  by  the  ants  were 
it  an  ordinary  butterfly,  for  they  are  no  respecters  of 
persons.  It  is  cunningly  contrived  with  a  multitude  of 
loose  scales.  When  the  ants,  which  do  not  seem  to 
connect  the  butterfly  with  the  caterpillars  from  which  they 
have  obtained  their  "  honey  dew,"  make  an  attack  on  the 
insect,  their  legs  and  antennae  become  so  hopelessly 
encumbered  by  the  loose  scales  that  they  are  powerless  to 
do  further  mischief.  An  assault  on  the  butterfly  results  in 
a  tarring  and  feathering  for  the  aggressors.  In  short,  all 
ant  farms  are  mutually  beneficial  to  insect  farmers  and 

169 


Queer   Friendships 

farmed  :  the  former  obtain  excellent  fare  in  return  for  the 
protection  they  afford  to  their  herds. 

There  are  many  other  ant  friendships  not  of  the  ants' 
seeking,  and  this  is  hardly  surprising.  The  warmth  of 
ants'  nests,  the  protection  they  afford,  the  odd  scraps  of 
food  they  provide,  coupled  with  the  very  curious  habit 
possessed  by  all  ants  of  nursing  the  young  of  insects  other 
than  their  own,  all  tend  to  render  the  ant  dwelling 
decidedly  attractive. 

One  of  the  most  peculiar  of  these  little  friends  is  a 
small,  brownish  American  beetle,  which  runs  about  the 
nests  of  its  ant  acquaintances  with  surprising  agility. 
From  time  to  time  it  pauses  on  its  way,  raises  the  front 
part  of  its  body  in  the  air  and  awaits  the  coming  of  an 
ant.  When  a-  passing  ant  happens  to  touch  it,  the  beetle 
waves  his  fore-legs  in  the  air  to  attract  attention.  The  ant 
is  not  slow  to  observe  the  signal ;  it  stops  and  licks  the 
beetle's  head  effusively,  till  at  length  it  regurgitates  a  drop 
of  liquid  food  which  the  beetle  eagerly  devours.  This  pn> 
ceeding  may  be  repeated  again  and  again,  but  after  each 
feed  the  ant  carefully  licks  the  beetle's  face  clean  ;  in  fact, 
she  seems  so  fascinated  with  her  pet  that  she  cannot  feed 
and  fondle  it  enough.  Sometimes  the  beetle  is  not  so 
fortunate,  for  when  sitting  up  and  begging  for  food  he 
may  be  inadvertently  knocked  over  in  the  general  hurry 
and  scramble  of  the  ants'  nest.  At  such  times,  after 
lying  for  a  little  while  on  his  back  with  legs  sprawling  in 
the  air,  he  will  suddenly  right  himself  and  scamper  off  or 
remain  and  strike  his  favourite  attitude  once  more. 

Another  little  insect  frequenting  ants'  nests  and  a  close 
relative  of  the  common  "silver  fish"  of  this  country  is  not 
quite  so  honest  as  the  beetle  which  has  learned  to  beg ;  in 
fact,  he  is  a  barefaced  robber  and  a  nuisance  to  the  ants, 
for  they  often  try  to  catch  him  while  he  is  thieving,  but  he 
is  usually  too  alert  to  be  caught.  Now  it  is  a  common 
ant  habit  to  pass  liquid  food  from  mouth  to  mouth  and 
this  is  especially  the  case  when  the  workers  have  returned 

170 


Queer  Friendships 

from  a  foraging  expedition.  The  insect  robber  watches 
his  opportunity  and  when  he  sees  two  ants  mouth  to 
mouth  and  about  to  pass  the  luscious  liquid,  he  springs 
up  and  gulps  it  up  in  mid-air  and  there  remains  a  dis- 
appointed ant  and  a  satisfied  ant  guest. 

The  friendship  of  a  little  fly  for  a  favourite  ant  is  so 
near  to  parasitism  that  we  are  not  sure  if  it  should  find  a 
place  in  this  chapter  ;  at  any  rate,  the  fly  is  so  considerate 
of  its  host  that  it  does  little  harm,  so  we  will  not  class  it 
among  the  evil-working  parasites.  The  fly  lays  its  eggs 
in  the  ants'  nest  and  its  grubs  on  hatching  immediately 
affix  themselves  to  an  ant  grub  by  means  of  a  sucker-like 
tail.  Now  the  worker  ants,  as  is  their  wont,  pay  great 
attention  to  their  grubs  and  feed  them  constantly  with 
pieces  of  insects. 

A  meal  for  the  ant  grub  means  a  meal  for  the  fly  larva, 
for  the  latter  always  partakes  of  a  portion  of  the  fare 
provided.  When  the  ant  grub  spins  its  cocoon,  the  little 
visitor  goes  with  it  into  hiding,  but  it  takes  the  precaution 
of  moving  to  the  tail  end  of  its  temporary  shelter,  lest,  later 
on,  when  the  ant  is  eating  its  way  out  to  freedom,  it  should 
receive  a  bite  by  mistake.  The  ant  comes  from  the 
cocoon  first  and  the  empty  case,  or  so  the  ants  think,  is 
removed  to  a  refuse  heap  outside  the  nest  and  the  fly 
emerges  at  a  later  date.  Who  can  fail  to  admire  the 
wonderful  workings  of  Nature  in  this  and  in  hosts  of  similar 
cases  ?  The  little  fly  grub  is  really  a  parasite,  there  is  no 
use  in  denying  the  fact,  but  it  does  no  harm  to  its  hosts  ; 
they  clean  it  as  carefully  as  they  clean  their  own  larvae  and, 
happy  to  relate,  the  ants  which  come  from  the  cocoons 
which  they  have  shared  with  their  guests  are  as  healthy 
and  vigorous  as  their  fellows  which  have  not  been  so 
encumbered. 

The  period  in  the  hermit  crab's  life  when  he  has  grown 
too  big  for  his  purloined  home  and  must  needs  seek  a 
larger  shell  is  always  fraught  with  anxiety.  To  watch  the 
crab  changing  from  his  old  home  to  the  new  one  is  most 

171 


Queer  Friendships 

entertaining.  He  takes  every  precaution  that  his  new 
dwelling  is  fit  for  habitation  and,  having  satisfied  himself 
on  that  score,  he  transfers  his  ungainly  body  from  one 
shell  to  another  with  a  celerity  which  is  astonishing. 
When  the  new  home  proves  unsuitable,  back  he  dashes  to 
his  late  abode,  which,  by  the  way,  never  leaves  his  grasp 
till  he  is  satisfied  that  he  will  want  it  no  longer. 

Some  hermit  crabs,  however,  more  fortunate  than  their 
fellows,  are  saved  all  worries  of  house  moving  and  that  by 
the  good  offices  of  a  friendly  sponge.  The  young  sponge 
takes  up  its  abode  on  the  whelk  or  other  shell  which  is 
serving  as  a  shelter  for  a  hermit  crab.  Rapid  growth 
takes  place  and  it  is  not  long  before  the  shell,  with  the 
exception  of  the  mouth,  is  completely  enveloped  by  the 
sponge. 

Now  it  is  a  remarkable  fact  that,  whatever  the  size 
attained  by  the  sponge,  and  it  is  often  considerable,  the 
opening  of  the  shell  is  never  closed,  but  a  tubular  passage  is 
always  in  front  of  it.  It  frequently  happens  that  sponges 
and  their  kind,  when  they  settle  on  a  shell  in  this  manner, 
eat  away  its  substance,  or  at  least  cause  it  to  become  so 
rotten  that  the  water  soon  completes  the  work  of  destruc- 
tion ;  the  sponge  we  are  describing  never  damages  the 
hermit  crab's  shell. 

As  may  be  imagined,  there  comes  a  day  when  the  crab 
is  too  large  for  his  home,  so  he  simply  walks  a  little  way  \ 
down  the  tube  of  sponge  which  has  been  built  up 
before  his  door  and,  by  so  doing,  avoids  the  trials  and 
dangers  of  changing  his  shell ;  for,  being  a  soft-bodied 
creature,  the  danger  when  uncovered  by  a  shell,  as  he  is 
for  a  moment  or  two  when  he  is  engaged  in  moving,  is 
very  great.  Enemies  await  this  change  and  catch  him 
moving  if  they  are  able.  The  sponge  then,  apparently  a 
hindrance  to  the  movements  of  the  crab,  in  reality  pro- 
vides him  with  a  house  which  grows  continuously  ;  a  house, 
moreover,  which  affords  him  ample  protection.  The  con- 
tinual transport  from  place  to  place  which  the  sponge 

172 


Queer  Friendships 

enjoys  by  reason  of  its  association  with  the  hermit  crab  is 
beneficial  and  may  account  for  its  rapid  growth. 

In  tropical  Australia  there  are  two  kinds  of  very  large 
sea-anemones  which  are  on  friendly  terms,  the  one  with 
a  brilliantly  coloured  fish,  the  other  with  a  prawn.  To 
make  our  story  intelligible,  let  us  explain  that  the  sea- 
anemone  resembles  an  empty  sack  standing  with  its  open 
end  uppermost.  This  open  end  forms  the  mouth  and  is 
fringed  with  tentacles.  The  tentacles  are  waved  about  in 
the  water  in  which  the  anemone  dwells  and  when  they  come 
in  contact  with  any  creature  suitable  for  food  it  is  stung 
and  passed  into  the  interior  of  the  sack,  which  is  the 
anemone's  stomach ;  then  the  prey  is  digested  and  the 
indigestible  parts  are  thrown  out  later  by  the  same  way  as 
they  entered.  Well,  curiously  enough,  the  friendly  fish  and 
prawn  swim  about  amongst  the  tentacles  of  their  respective 
sea-anemones,  who,  on  their  part,  never  attempt  to  sting 
their  friends.  When  danger  threatens,  the  fish  or  the 
prawn,  as  the  case  may  be,  seeks  safety  in  the  anemone's 
stomach,  once  more  without  suffering  any  harm.  Now 
these  cases  of  friendship  in  nature  are  never  one-sided, 
but  the  case  we  are  describing  gave  naturalists  a  difficult 
puzzle  to  solve. 

The  association  seems  so  odd,  so  unnatural,  nevertheless 
a  theory  has  been  propounded  to  account  for  it  and  at  least 
it  possesses  the  merit  of  being  plausible.  Both  fish  and 
prawn  are  brilliantly  coloured,  as  we  have  remarked  ; 
being  so,  they  are  likely  to  attract  fishes  of  larger  size  on 
the  hunt  for  prey.  When  they  are  attacked,  escape  for 
them  is  easy  within  the  body  of  the  anemone,  as  their 
would-be  attackers  are  at  once  paralysed  by  the  anemone's 
stings  and  passed  into  its  stomach  to  form  a  tasty  meal. 

The  association  of  a  certain  fish  with  an  American  jelly- 
fish is  not  quite  so  happy.  The  fish  shelters  beneath  the 
umbrella-like  body  of  the  jelly-fish  and  probably  brings 
much  provender  to  its  protector,  just  as  in  the  case  we 
have  mentioned  above.  Sometimes,  however,  whether  for 


Queer   Friendships 

amusement  or  necessity  we  cannot  say,  the  fish  bites  a 
piece  from  the  tentacles  or  body  of  the  jelly-fish 
and,  as  is  only  fitting,  the  jelly-fish  occasionally  captures 
and  devours  the  fish  it  has  protected.  Why  such  a  pre- 
carious companionship  should  exist  it  is  by  no  means 
easy  to  guess. 

Friendship  between  a  crab  and  a  pond  mussel  seems 
to  savour  of  the  improbable,  yet  such  a  case  is  quite 
common.  Now  a  crab  is  usually  a  hard-shelled  creature, 
armed  with  many  sharp  angles  and  often  spines  which, 
it  would  appear,  must  certainly  endamage  the  flesh  of 
the  mussel,  seeing  that  it  is  as  soft  as  that  of  the  familiar 
oyster.  This  particular  crab,  however,  is  especially  well 
adapted  for  the  life  he  has  chosen ;  all  his  sharp  angles 
have  been  dispensed  with  and  he  is  as  smooth  and  round 
as  a  pea,  in  fact  he  is  called  the  pea-crab. 

The  active  little  creature  spends  all  his  time  within 
easy  reach  of  his  protector  the  mussel ;  at  the  slightest 
sign  of  danger  he  dashes  back  into  the  mussel  shell  and 
hides  himself  among  the  sheltering  fold  of  the  shell-fish, 
at  the  same  time  the  valves  are  closed.  In  this  case  the 
partnership  is  mutually  beneficial :  the  crab  warns  the 
mussel  of  impending  danger  and,  in  return,  is  protected 
by  the  shell  of  the  bivalve. 

Partnerships  of  a  similar  nature,  where  one  partner 
receives  certain  benefits  in  return  for  giving  warning  of 
danger,  are  quite  common.  The  oxpecker  or  rhinoceros 
bird  is  never  so  happy  as  when  perched  on  the  back  of 
some  friendly  rhinoceros  or  other  big  game,  picking,  here 
and  there,  a  dainty  morsel  in  the  shape  of  some  tasty 
tick.  At  the  slightest  hint  of  danger  the  bird  flies  away 
and  the  rhino  prepares  to  beat  a  hasty  retreat  or  to 
attack,  as  the  case  may  be.  Those  much-persecuted  birds, 
the  egrets,  perform  similar  offices  for  elephants.  The 
"  beef-eater  "  birds,  which  find  their  sustenance  in  warbles 
on  the  backs  of  buffalo,  and  the  Egyptian  split-winged 
and  black-headed  plovers,  friends  of  the  crocodile,  from 

174 


Queer  Friendships 

whose  teeth  and  gums  they  remove  leeches,  both  give 
warning  in  return  for  food.  The  friendship  of  bird  for 
bird  is  uncommon,  but  a  striking  case  is  that  of  the  rosy 
bee-eater  and  the  crested  bustard,  described  by  Mr 
Arthur  Neumann  in  the  following  words : — "  The  bee- 
eater  habitually  rides  about  on  the  back  of  the  large 
crested  bustard  or  'pauw'  which  is  common  about  the 
north-east  extremity  of  Bassu.  It  sits  far  back  on  the 
rump  of  its  mount,  as  a  boy  rides  a  donkey.  The  '  pauw  ' 
does  not  seem  to  resent  this  liberty,  but  stalks  majestically 
along,  while  its  brilliantly  clad  little  jockey  keeps  a  look- 
out, sitting  sideways,  and  now  and  again  flies  up  after  an 
insect  it  has  espied,  returning  again  after  the  chase  to 
'  its  camel,'  as  Juma  (a  native  servant)  not  inaptly  called 
it.  I  have  also  noticed  this  pretty  little  bird  sitting  on 
the  backs  of  goats,  sheep  and  antelopes,  but  the  *  pauw ' 
seems  its  favourite  steed.  I  imagine  it  gets  more  flights 
in  this  way  at  game  put  up  by  its  bearer,  which  also 
affords  it  a  point  of  vantage  whence  to  sight  and  pursue 
its  prey  in  a  country  where  suitable  sticks  to  perch  on 
are  few." 

Of  strange  bedfellows  in  the  bird  world  there  are 
many.  Small  and  defenceless  birds  will  often  nest  on 
the  outer  portions  of  the  enormous  nests  of  the  osprey. 
The  burrowing  owl  shares  a  burrow  with  the  prairie  dog ; 
certain  New  Zealand  petrels  dwell  and  nest  in  the  same 
burrows  as  the  formidable  teratera  lizard.  But  let  us  pass 
to  other  examples  in  the  animal  world. 

That  any  creature  should  make  a  friend  of  the  cruel 
and  voracious  shark  is  almost  unbelievable,  yet  the  pilot- 
fish  does  so.  Few  creatures  will,  of  their  own  free  will, 
approach  a  shark,  so  the  pilot-fish  lives  its  life  free  from 
danger,  and  in  return  it  removes  certain  parasites  from 
the  shark's  skin. 

Our  last  example  can  hardly  be  termed  a  friendship,  we 
fear.  It  concerns  a  night-flying  moth  and  a  plant.  That 
the  insect  might  have  friendly  feelings  towards  the  plant 

175 


Queer  Friendships 

might  be  feasible  were  it  allowed  that  insects  are  endowed 
with  feelings ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  the  plant  certainly 
cannot  feel  any  emotion  whatever.  The  case  of  the  moth 
and  the  yucca  plant,  often  called  Adam's  needle,  is  so 
extraordinary,  and  plant  and  moth  are  so  perfectly 
dependent  on  one  another,  that  we  make  no  excuse  for 
introducing  them  here.  So  interdependent  are  they 
that  without  the  moth  the  plant  would  never  form  seeds, 
whilst  the  larvae  of  the  moth  can  only  exist  upon  the 
seeds  of  this  one  kind  of  plant ;  both  moth  and  plant  are 
constructed  for  their  mutual  aid. 

On  the  head  of  the  moth  there  is  a  unique  structure, 
shaped  like  a  sickle  and  used  for  the  express  purpose 
of  scraping  up  pollen  from  the  yucca  flower.  Having 
gathered  a  ball  of  pollen  from  the  first  yucca  she  visits, 
the  female  moth  flies  to  another  flower  of  the  same  kind 
and  deposits  her  eggs  amongst  the  unfertilised  seeds. 
Having  done  so,  she  deposits  the  pollen  ball  on  the 
stigma  of  the  same  flower,  thereby  ensuring  that  the 
seeds  will  mature,  and  a  very  necessary  operation  this 
is  for  both  parties. 

Unless  the  seeds  are  fertilised  the  yucca  cannot  repro- 
duce its  kind — there  is  nothing  very  wonderful  in  that, 
half  the  plants  the  world  over  depend  on  insects  for  their 
fertilisation,  though,  to  be  sure,  the  pollen  is  not  usually 
placed  upon  the  stigma  deliberately  as  in  this  case.  The 
fertilisation  of  the  seed  is  equally  important  to  the  moth, 
for  upon  the  fertilised  seeds  the  young  larvae  feed. 
Fortunately  each  flower  forms  about  two  hundred  seeds, 
and  luckily,  too,  the  larvae  develop  quickly,  only  eating 
about  twenty  seeds  before  turning  into  chrysalids,  so  that 
both  plant  and  insect  are  able  to  survive. 

"  The  whole  proceeding  is  of  great  interest,  showing 
as  it  does  the  blind  and  instinctive  nature  of  the  organisms' 
actions,  and  giving  us  an  example  of  two  species  absolutely 
dependent  on  each  other  for  their  continued  existence. 
If  the  moth  had  not  the  structure  to  form  the  pollen  ball, 


- 

I  H 


EE--S 


Queer  Friendships 

and  the  instinct  to  put  it  on  the  stigma,  the  ovules  would 
not  be  fertilised,  and  her  offspring  would  have  no  food  ; 
and  if  the  plant  were  not  prepared  to  sacrifice  some 
ten  per  cent,  of  its  brood,  the  rest  would  never  develop 
at  all." 


177 


CHAPTER  XV 
MIGRATION 

AT  times,  mainly  at  certain  seasons  of  the  year,  a  strange 
restlessness  overcomes  animals  and  they  change  their 
quarters  for  some  more  congenial  spot.  This  wandering 
from  one  part  of  the  earth  to  another  is  termed  migration. 
Insects,  birds,  mammals  and  even  fishes  are  all  victims  of 
this  craving  for  new  fields,  but  the  habit  reaches  its  zenith 
amongst  the  birds.  It  is  hard  to  define  exactly  when 
migration  begins  and  when  it  ends.  The  chicken  which 
leaves  its  home  farm  and  joins  its  neighbours  of  the  next 
poultry  yard,  migrates  ;  the  fox  which,  maybe  through  too 
persistent  attention  on  the  part  of  the  local  hunt,  seeks 
another  earth,  migrates ;  but  for  our  purpose  migration 
implies  a  regular  organised  movement  from  one  country  to 
another,  or  at  least  from  one  end  of  a  country  to  another. 
Amongst  insects,  migration  does  not  appear  to  be 
a  fixed  habit,  except  in  a  few  cases.  The  wholesale 
wanderings  of  the  processionary  moth  larvae  cannot, 
strictly  speaking,  be  termed  migration.  In  South  Europe 
we  have  seen  hordes  of  cockchafers  descend  upon  a 
district,  destroying  the  vegetation  far  and  wide,  and  there 
are  well-authenticated  cases  of  migration  amongst  certain 
species  of  butterflies.  But  all  these  are  not  regular 
periodical  movements  ;  they  are  merely  occasional  wander- 
ings and,  as  such,  do  not  come  under  our  definition  of 
migration.  Of  all  insects  there  are  none  with  migratory 
habits  so  highly  developed  as  the  locusts  ;  one  species,  in 
fact,  is  called  the  migratory  locust.  These  migrations 
have  a  great  influence  on  the  inhabitants. 

The  locusts  appear  in  vast  swarms,  and  eat  up  every  scrap 
of  vegetation,  till  nothing  green  remains  in  the  land  for 


Migr 


ation 


man  and  his  herds.  So  great  are  these  swarms  that  it  is 
difficult  to  imagine  their  vastness  unless  they  have  been 
seen.  Millions  upon  millions  of  these  six-legged  robbers 
darken  the  sky  as  they  move  from  place  to  place.  In  the 
autumn  of  1889  an  enormous  flight  took  place  over  the 
Red  Sea  ;  it  extended  for  2000  miles  and  it  was  estimated 
to  weigh  no  less  than  42,850  millions  of  tons.  On  the 
following  day  another  and  still  larger  swarm  passed  in  the 
same  direction.  In  Cyprus  alone,  during  the  year  1881, 
1,600,000,000  locust  egg-cases  were  collected  and  de- 
stroyed. Seeing  that  each  case  contained  several  eggs,  it 
is  clear  that  this  destruction  saved  the  island  from  a  vast 
horde  of  locusts.  By  the  end  of  the  season  more  than 
1300  tons  of  egg-cases  had  been  destroyed,  but  all  this 
energy  on  the  part  of  the  authorities  did  not  prevent 
5,076,000,000  egg -cases  from  being  deposited  on  the 
island  in  1883. 

A  natural  concomitant  of  locust  swarms  is  disease, 
fostered,  no  doubt,  by  the  decay  of  millions  of  the  dead 
bodies  of  the  locusts.  These  locust  migrations  take  place 
periodically  and  at  considerable  intervals.  The  instinct 
to  migrate  seems  to  become  acute  when  the  swarm  has 
increased  to  unwieldy  proportions  and  the  ranks  are 
thinned  considerably  by  hosts  of  parasites  and  also  by 
inclement  weather.  Should  there  be  a  very  unfavourable 
season,  the  eggs  do  not  hatch  from  the  egg-cases,  they 
simply  stay  below  ground  till  better  times  come. 

In  locust  migration  wind  is  a  very  important  factor  and 
many  trial  flights  are  made  to  test  its  direction  before  the 
main  swarm  sets  out  to  migrate.  As  a  rule,  the  insects 
travel  with  the  wind  behind  them,  and  are  carried  by 
it  without  any  exertion  ;  should  its  direction  change,  they 
simply  alight,  wherever  they  may  be,  and  await  a  more 
favourable  opportunity  for  flight.  The  immature  locusts 
also  migrate,  and  they  do  so  not  by  flight  but  by  a  series 
of  short  hops.  The  incentive  to  migration  in  their  case  is 
lack  of  food  and  a  desire  for  change. 

179 


Migration 

To  the  birds  we  must  turn  if  we  would  study  migration 
in  its  highest  form.  "  The  migratory  movements  of  birds 
are  interesting  in  the  extreme.  Their  arrival  is  the 
harbinger  of  spring  ;  their  departure  the  unfailing  sign  of 
winter's  advent.  But  of  higher  interest  still  are  all  the 
causes  and  influences  which  prompt  and  govern  these  various 
migratory  movements.  We  see  the  woods  all  radiant 
with  opening  leaf  and  fragrant  bloom  suddenly  become 
tenanted  with  these  little  wanderers  from  sunny  southern 
lands — delicate  little  creatures  many  of  them,  whose 
bodies  would  scarcely  fill  a  good-sized  thimble,  yet  we 
know  these  frail  little  feathered  travellers  have  covered 
the  land  and  sea  for  many  thousands  of  miles — they  are 
fresh  from  the  palm-trees  and  glorious  wealth  of  tropical 
verdure  far  away  in  the  soft,  lovely  south.  The  terrors 
and  perils  of  the  long  journey  are  soon  forgotten — like 
dreams  they  pass  away,  and  songs  of  sweetest  cadence 
pour  joyously  from  their  little  throats.  In  autumn's 
balmy  days  we  see  these  migrants  preparing  for  their  long 
journey.  All  is  eager  excitement  to  be  gone.  The  brown- 
ing leaves  and  mournful  winds  of  autumn,  the  first  white 
frost  aud  cool  nights,  sternly  bid  these  little  travellers 
depart.  As  we  watch  them  flitting  restlessly  about  from 
twig  to  twig,  or  congregating  in  merry  flocks  on  buildings 
and  telegraph  wires,  we  think  of  their  early  departure  with 
regret  and  from  the  bottom  of  our  hearts  we  wish  them  a 
speedy  and  a  safe  return." 

The  seasonal  wanderings  of  birds  have  occupied  the 
attention  of  many  eminent  naturalists,  yet  it  is  strange 
how  little  we  really  know  of  the  subject,  astonishing  how 
much  there  is  still  to  learn.  Migration  in  birds  is  chiefly 
concerned  with  the  necessity  of  finding  suitable  breeding- 
places  and  suitable  breeding-places  only  exist  where  the 
food  supply  is  abundant,  so  that  the  food  question  is  really 
at  the  bottom  of  migration.  Needless  to  say,  the  extent 
of  migration  varies  enormously  in  different  species. 

The  grouse  nests  on  the  moors  but  seeks  the  valleys 

180 


Mig 


ration 


during  winter  and,  in  the  case  of  this  typically  British 
bird,  a  change  of  habitat  from  one  "  fell "  to  another  marks 
the  limit  of  its  wanderings.  At  the  other  extreme,  or  near 
it,  is  the  knot,  which  breeds  in  Greenland  and  migrates 
in  the  summer  to  Demerara-land  ;  or  the  Arctic  tern,  which 
breeds  as  far  north  as  any  bird,  but  in  summer  travels 
22,000  miles  to  the  far  south.  It  has  been  said  that  the 
farther  north  a  bird  goes  in  summer  the  farther  south 
it  travels  in  winter.  We  are  prone  to  imagine  that 
"  migrants  are  merely  those  birds  which  come  to  us,  like 
the  swallow  and  cuckoo,  in  the  spring,  and  those,  like  the 
field-fare  and  brambling,  which  visit  us  in  winter  but  are 
not  with  us  in  summer." 

Migration  is  far  more  complex  than  this ;  in  fact,  con- 
sidered from  the  point  of  view  of  their  journeys  or  their 
wanderings,  birds  have  been  divided  into  six  groups. 
(i)  Permanent  residents  in  the  country,  such  as  the  grouse, 
dipper,  tits,  robins,  etc.,  but  even  these  migrate  to  a  small 
extent.  (2)  Summer  residents  which  nest  in  this  country, 
cuckoos,  swallows,  swifts,  etc.  (3)  Winter  residents  which 
nest  north  or  east  of  Britain  and  arrive  in  autumn,  as  field- 
fares, jacksnipe,  bramblings,  etc.  (4)  Spring  and  autumn 
migrants,  which  merely  rest  here  on  their  journeys  north 
and  south,  dunlins  and  curlews.  (5)  Irregular  migrants, 
such  as  the  sand-grouse.  (6)  Wanderers  whose  appearance 
is  purely  accidental. 

As  far  as  birds  of  the  Northern  Hemisphere  are  con- 
cerned, they  usually  breed  in  the  most  northerly  limits  of 
their  migration  and  winter  in  the  most  southerly,  but  of 
course  the  cold  districts  are  always  visited  at  their  warm- 
est period  of  the  year.  It  has  been  said  that  birds  never 
seek  fresh  nesting-places  and  thus  extend  their  range,  but 
"  within  the  last  few  years,  for  instance,  the  turtle-dove 
and  the  tufted  duck  have  begun  to  nest  regularly  in  many 
parts  of  England  of  which  they  were  entirely  unknown 
twenty  or  thirty  years  ago.  The  starling  also  has  spread 
and  in  some  parts  is  spreading  still." 

181 


Migration 

A  little  thought  will  show  that  birds,  in  the  main, 
travel  north  in  their  search  for  nesting-places  and  south  in 
their  search  for  food,  but  it  is  interesting  to  note  too  that 
migration  usually  begins  some  time  before  the  food  supply 
fails.  Swifts  leave  us  in  July  and  August,  when  insect  life 
is  at  its  height.  It  is  probably  not  cold,  as  some  assert,  but 
the  intuition  that  their  food  supply  will  soon  fail  that  drives 
our  migrants  south  in  winter.  During  the  breeding  season, 
family  cares  compel  migrants  to  limit  themselves  to  a 
definite  district ;  but  in  their  winter  haunts,  free  from  all 
cares,  many  of  these  migrants  are  nomadic,  as  witness  the 
wanderings  of  flocks  of  redwings  and  field-fares  over  this 
country  in  winter.  Then,  again,  certain  birds,  the  snow 
bunting  and  shore  lark  to  wit,  have  been  termed  gipsy 
migrants,  for  the  reason  that  they  wander  southward  only 
so  far  as  frost  and  snow  compel  them — they  are  always 
trying  to  go  north. 

Observation,  too,  has  shown  that  many  migrants  have 
certain  favoured  spots  in  this  country  which  they  visit 
from  year  to  year  during  their  pilgrimage ;  thus  certain 
migratory  sandpipers  regularly  visit  the  lower  reaches  of 
the  Mersey  every  autumn.  This  "  regularity  of  appearance 
suggests  habit  and  memory"  rather  than  a  haphazard 
discovery  of  a  favourable  food  supply. 

It  has  been  asserted  that  family  instincts  are  at  the  root 
of  bird  migration.  That  this  may  have  been  so  originally  is 
possible,  but  incapable  of  proof,  and  there  are  other  theories 
which  we  shall  mention  later.  Were  family  affairs  the  crux 
of  the  matter,  there  would  not  be  such  a  large  proportion 
of  immature  migrants.  Moreover,  these  inexperienced 
birds  are  often  the  first  to  make  the  long  journey  from 
their  southern  feeding-grounds.  With  such  vast  hordes  of 
birds  arriving  at  and  departing  from  our  shores,  and  even 
passing  over  our  land  without  a  halt,  how  is  it  that  the 
ordinary  man  sees  so  little  of  the  game  ? 

True,  we  have  all  beheld  the  swallows  collecting  on 
roofs  and  telegraph  wires,  preparatory  to  their  autumn 

182 


Migra 


tion 


flight,  but  of  migration  in  general  we  see  very  little,  for  the 
reason  that  the  birds  as  a  rule  fly  at  high  altitudes,  ranging 
from  1 200  to  5000  feet.  In  autumn  the  migration  is  most 
marked,  for  in  spring  the  birds  arrive  in  little  parties,  but 
in  autumn  they  travel  in  enormous  flocks.  Some  fly  in 
pairs,  some  in  sexes,  the  males  arriving  first  and  leaving 
last.  Sometimes  the  young  birds  migrate  first.  Some 
travel  only  by  day  ;  others,  again,  are  night  flyers.  How- 
ever they  go,  they  always  arrive  and  depart  well  to  time. 

The  direction  of  the  wind  appears  to  have  little  effect 
on  migration,  but  its  force  may  render  migration 
impossible.  They  travel,  for  the  most  part,  in  the  upper 
layers  of  the  air,  for  "  birds  are  warmer  blooded  than  our- 
selves or  other  mammalia,  and  are  capable  of  sustaining 
life  in  rarefied  atmospheres  when  these  could  not.  By 
a  simple  mechanical  ascent,  they  can  reach,  within 
a  league  or  two,  regions  and  conditions  quite  beyond 
human  knowledge  ;  where,  selecting  favouring  air-strata, 
they  may  be  able  to  rest  without  exertion ;  or  find 
meteorological  or  atmospheric  forces  that  mitigate  or 
abolish  the  labours  of  ordinary  flight,  or  possibly  assist 
their  progress." 

The  perils  which  envelop  birds  during  migration  are 
enormous  :  the  weaklings  perish  of  fatigue  and  hunger ; 
adverse  winds  drive  them  from  land  to  sea.  Predatory 
birds,  hawks  and  the  like,  accompany  them,  taking  toll 
en  route,  and  predatory  man  awaits  the  tired  wanderers 
with  gun  and  net.  On  foggy  nights  countless  numbers 
perish  at  the  lighthouses,  as  the  remarks  of  an  observer  at 
the  Skerryvore  show,  for  he  likens  the  birds  around  the 
lighthouse  to  a  heavy  fall  of  snow.  "  Thousands  were 
flitting  about ;  hundreds  were  striking  against  the  dome 
and  windows  ;  hundreds  were  sitting  dazed  and  stupid  on 
the  trimming  paths  ;  and  scores  falling  to  the  rocks  below, 
some  instantaneously  killed,  others  seriously  injured, 
falling  helplessly  into  the  sea.  .  .  .  Sometimes  we  use  the 
terms  hundreds  and  thousands  without  thinking  seriously 

183 


Migration 

what  these  figures  mean,  but  on  this  occasion  when  I 
say  thousands  were  killed  I  do  not  exaggerate  in  the 
slightest." 

Some  of  the  early  theories  concerning  bird  migration  are 
vastly  humorous,  in  the  light  of  our  present-day  know- 
ledge, scanty  though  it  be.  That  birds  did  migrate  was 
known  in  Biblical  times ;  that  they  migrated  to  the  moon 
was  a  surmise  of  a  later  date.  A  theory  that  was  widespread, 
still  later,  assumed  that  birds  must  be  classed  among  the 
hibernating  animals.  Swallows  had  been  seen  in  reed-beds, 
preparatory  to  their  autumn  flight ;  the  day  arrived  when 
the  swallows  had  disappeared — they  must  have  hiberr.ated 
in  the  water !  Often  a  sudden  fall  of  temperature  at  this 
season  would  result  in  the  death  or  stupor  of  a  number  of 
birds  and  their  discovery  in  this  state  was  looked  upon  as 
confirmation  of  the  hibernation  theory.  That  the  stronger 
birds  carried  the  weaker  on  their  backs  during  migration 
was  another  common  fallacy. 

Migration  is  merely  a  habit  and  one  that  has  been 
slowly  acquired  with  the  expenditure  of  much  labour  and 
many  failures.  For  thousands  of  years  these  journeys 
have  been  undertaken,  till  now,  as  we  have  said,  it  is  a 
deeply  rooted  habit.  This  habit  probably  originated 
owing  to  changes  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  Once  the 
polar  regions  were  fertile  lands  with  a  large  resident  bird 
population.  Then  when  the  earth  changed  her  position 
and  an  ice-cap  was  formed,  lack  of  food  drove  the  birds 
southward.  This  all  occurred  during  a  very  long  period, 
sufficiently  long  to  implant  the  migratory  habit  in  birds. 
When  the  glacial  epoch  passed  and  the  snows  began  to  melt 
and  the  ice  to  drift  back,  the  birds  returned  farther  and 
farther  north.  Age  after  age  the  journey  became  longer, 
till  it  attained  the  dimensions  of  the  present  day.  Water 
birds  travel  farther  than  land  birds,  for  the  latter  are 
practically  confined  to  the  limits  of  forest  growth.  It 
is  of  interest  to  note  that  many  migrants  follow  the 
direction  of  ancient  coast-lines,  which  are  now  buried 

184 


Migration 

beneath  the  sea ;  this  may  account  for  the  many  birds 
which  cross  the  North  Sea  to  this  country  and  then  pass 
due  south  across  the  Channel. 

Migration  amongst  fishes  is  of  quite  common  occur- 
rence, though  the  subject,  in  general,  is  of  too  abstruse  a 
character  to  deal  with  in  these  pages.  A  certain  South 
American  fish,  equally  at  home  on  land  or  in  water, 
travels  rapidly  overland  by  violently  lashing  its  tail, 
supporting  itself  the  while  on  its  breast  fins.  In  this 
manner  it  passes  from  one  waterway  to  another.  Occasion- 
ally whole  nights  are  occupied  in  the  journey.  Usually 
these  fishes  travel  singly  or  a  few  at  a  time ;  sometimes, 
however,  they  migrate  in  large  bands. 

Well-authenticated  cases  of  migration  occur  amongst 
salmon  and  eels,  therefore  we  will  confine  our  remarks 
to  the  wanderings  of  these  two  common  fishes.  The  life 
history  of  the  salmon  is  interesting  in  the  extreme ;  part 
of  its  existence  is  spent  in  fresh  water,  part  in  the  sea. 
During  the  summer  and  autumn  there  is  a  regular  migra- 
tion from  the  sea  to  the  rivers.  Spawning  takes  place  in 
fresh  water.  There  the  young  grow  into  parr  and  smolt 
before  travelling  back  to  the  sea,  where  they  become  grilse 
and  salmon  before  returning  to  fresh  water.  After  the 
salmon  have  travelled  up-stream  to  spawn,  a  journey 
fraught  with  dangers  and  difficulties,  which  the  fish  use 
every  effort  to  surmount,  they  pair  off  and  seek  some 
gravel-bed  in  a  shallow  part  of  the  stream ;  then  by 
violent  lashing  of  their  tails  they  form  a  hollow,  in  which 
the  eggs  are  laid  and  fertilised,  and,  by  further  tail- 
lashings,  are  covered  with  gravel.  The  usual  time  for  this 
family  event  to  take  place  is  November  and  December, 
but  spawning  may  go  on  from  September  to  January. 
In  addition  to  this  so-called  spawning  migration,  a 
general  seasonal  migration  of  salmon  takes  place  every 
year.  By  marking  the  fish  in  their  young  stages  some 
interesting  experiments  have  been  carried  out,  which  have 
proved  that  the  spawning  salmon  usually  return  to  the 

185 


Migration 

same  river  in  which  they  were  brought  up,  despite  the 
fact  that  they  wander  for  considerable  distances  from  the 
mouth  of  their  home  river  during  their  life  at  sea. 

Interesting  as  is  the  migration  of  salmon,  that  of  the 
common  eel  is  far  more  so,  and  it  is  only  in  comparatively 
recent  years  that  it  has  been  fully  understood.  In  fact, 
not  so  very  long  ago  young  eels  were  considered  as  quite 
a  distinct  and  peculiar  kind  of  fish  and  were  not  associated 
with  eels  at  all.  There  has  always  been  something  akin 
to  mystery  surrounding  the  life  history  of  the  eel. 
Aristotle  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  eels  were  formed 
from  mud.  A  belief  which  still  holds  sway  in  some  parts 
of  the  country  was  once  widespread — namely,  that  horse- 
hair falling  into  the  water  would  grow  into  eels. 

For  many  years  all  that  was  known  of  this  very  common 
fish  was  that  young  eels  or  elvers  migrated  from  the  sea 
to  the  rivers  in  spring,  and  that  silver  eels,  as  the  mature 
fish  are  called,  migrated  seawards  in  autumn.  It  has  now 
been  firmly  established  that  eels  spawn  in  mid-ocean  ; 
from  their  eggs  arise  curious  leaf-like  little  fish,  so  frail 
and  transparent  that  only  their  eyes  are  visible  as  they 
swim  in  the  water  and  so  unlike  their  parents  that  they 
were  called  Leptocephali.  These  tiny  creatures  are  quite 
unable  to  battle  with  the  waves,  so  they  simply  drift 
upon  the  Gulf  Stream  till  they  are  carried  towards  the 
coasts  of  the  Atlantic.  When  they  drift  to  shallower 
water  they  change  from  Leptocephali  to  elvers. 

At  the  mouths  of  the  rivers  they  dwell  for  a  time  and 
collect  in  vast  crowds ;  when  their  numbers  are  sufficient 
the  vast  army  migrates  from  the  sea  to  the  upper  reaches 
of  the  rivers,  travelling  mostly  at  night,  unless  there  be  a 
full  moon,  when  the  migration  is  hindered,  for  light  seems 
distasteful  to  the  little  voyagers.  In  fact,  the  eel  is  of 
somewhat  nocturnal  habits  ;  even  the  adults  feed,  for  the 
most  part,  by  night.  Several  years  are  spent  in  the 
rivers  before  the  eels  are  ready  to  migrate  to  the  sea  for 
spawning.  When  that  time  arrives  they  change  in 

186 


Migration 

appearance  considerably  :  their  backs  become  darker,  their 
under  sides  lighter  and  their  eyes  larger.  The  silver  eels, 
as  they  are  now  called,  like  the  elvers,  migrate  only  by 
night,  and  on  moonless  nights  at  that ;  occasionally  they 
travel  massed  together  in  balls.  After  spawning  the  eels 
die,  so  that,  unlike  the  salmon,  they  migrate  only  once 
during  their  adult  lives.  Frequently  eels  have  been 
observed  travelling  overland  from  place  to  place,  wriggling 
through  the  herbage,  after  the  manner  of  a  snake.  These 
land  journeys  can  hardly  be  termed  migration. 

Amongst  quadrupeds  migration  is  by  no  means  common. 
The  reindeer  is  a  migrant.  In  Spitzbergen,  where  there 
are  large  herds  of  these  animals,  the  reindeer  seek  the 
valleys  during  the  short  Arctic  summer,  but  in  autumn 
they  turn  their  steps  back  to  the  sea  coast,  where  they 
feed  mainly  upon  seaweed.  It  is  said  that  a  female 
always  leads  the  migratory  herds.  In  Arctic  America, 
where  the  reindeer  is  known  as  the  caribou,  there  is  a 
regular  southward  migration  in  winter,  but  in  summer  the 
herds  return  to  their  northern  uplands. 

The  South  African  springbok  is  also  an  occasional 
migrant.  When  the  absence  of  rain  causes  its  almost 
desert  home  to  become  absolutely  barren,  it  migrates 
eastwards  to  more  fertile  regions.  Travellers  have 
described  enormous  herds  of  these  migratory  antelopes 
moving  in  a  solid  mass  of  over  half-a-mile  in  width  and 
taking  over  two  hours  to  pass  a  given  point.  They  have 
even  related  that  the  herds  were  of  such  enormous  size 
that  a  lion,  attempting  to  prey  upon  one  of  their  number, 
became  so  surrounded  by  the  migrants  that  escape  was 
impossible  and  he  was  forced  to  march  along  with  them. 

Thirst  is  the  compelling  force  in  the  case  of  the  spring- 
boks, and  not  long  ago  thousands  upon  thousands 
migrated  to  the  sea,  drank  of  the  salt  water  and  died  in 
countless  numbers ;  for  miles  upon  miles  the  shores  of 
the  Indian  Ocean  were  strewn  with  their  dead  and 
decaying  bodies. 


Migration 

Of  all  quadrupeds,  the  most  notorious  migrant  is  the 
lemming,  a  small  rat-like  creature,  inhabiting  the 
mountainous  regions  of  Northern  Europe.  At  long 
intervals  these  destructive  little  creatures  migrate  from 
their  mountain  fastnesses  literally  in  millions.  Lack  of 
food  or  the  foreboding  of  severe  weather  may  account 
for  their  wanderings  ;  but,  whatever  the  cause,  they  lay 
waste  the  land  far  and  wide  as  they  go.  Travelling 
chiefly  by  night  or  in  early  morning,  they  brook  no 
obstacles.  They  swim  rivers  and  lakes.  They  are  accom- 
panied by  a  crowd  of  camp-followers  in  the  shape  of 
predaceous  animals  and  birds,  but  on  and  on  the  horde 
advances,  till  finally  the  sea  and  the  sea  alone  forces 
a  halt. 


188 


CHAPTER   XVI 

HUNTERS  AND   HUNTED 

IN  the  world  of  nature  there  is  a  constant  struggle  for 
existence  every  minute  of  the  day  ;  every  day  in  the  year 
hunters  and  hunted  are  in  conflict  with  one  another,  the 
one  seeking  the  wherewithal  to  live,  the  other  striving  to 
avoid  destruction.  Nature  has  been  described  as  cruel ;  be 
that  is  it  may,  the  weapons  with  which  certain  animals  are 
provided,  their  ingenuity  in  using  them  and  their  almost 
saturnine  cunning,  render  the  lives  of  their  adversaries 
one  long  period  of  watchfulness.  The  domestic  cat  and 
dog  may  well  be  taken  as  our  examples  of  typical 
predaceous  animals — that  is  to  say,  animals  which  prey 
upon  others.  Their  habits  and  their  beautiful  adaptations 
for  a  hunting  existence  are  easily  observed. 

In  the  cat  the  sense  of  hearing  is  marvellously  developed  ; 
its  ears  are  in  constant  motion,  that  it  may  detect  the 
slightest  sound,  and  noises  which  are  quite  inaudible  to  us 
are  plainly  heard  by  the  cat.  Combined  with  its  sharp 
hearing,  its  sight  is  excellent ;  moreover,  its  eyes  are 
readily  adapted  to  changes  in  the  intensity  of  the  light — 
in  sunlight  the  pupils  are  mere  slips,  by  night  they  are 
large  and  round.  Despite  their  keen  sight,  cats  cannot  see 
at  night,  as  is  popularly  supposed  ;  after  dark  they  rely  on 
their  sense  of  touch,  another  highly  developed  faculty. 
Every  hair  on  the  cat's  body  is  exceedingly  sensitive  to 
touch,  that  is  why  this  animal  has  such  a  deep-rooted 
dislike  of  having  its  fur  rubbed  the  wrong  way.  It  is, 
however,  in  the  whiskers  and  eyelashes  that  this  sense  is 
most  highly  developed.  Its  well-padded  feet,  covered  with 
short  hair,  enable  it  to  approach  its  prey  without  noise ; 
its  lissom  body  renders  possible  the  use  of  its  needle- 

189 


Hunters  and  Hunted 

pointed  claws  in  capturing  and  killing  the  most  agile 
victim  ;  though  the  cat,  in  common  with  others  of  its 
kind,  only  slaughters  its  unfortunate  victim  after  playing 
with  it  for  some  time. 

Dogs  have  been  domesticated  by  man  for  such  varied 
purposes  and  for  so  long  a  time  that  it  is  by  no  means  easy 
to  find  an  example  which  conforms  to  the  scientist's  idea 
of  the  typical  dog.  In  some  cases  fleetness  of  foot  has 
been  developed  at  the  expense  of  other  qualities ;  in 
others  the  sense  of  smell  is  the  most  important,  from  man's 
point  of  view.  However,  what  we  may  term  the  typical  dog 
possesses  a  keen  sense  of  smell,  which  serves  it  in  good 
stead  in  hunting  its  prey,  though  the  greyhound,  be  it 
noted,  relies  upon  its  keen  sight  rather  than  upon  its  nose 
when  pursuing  its  prey.  The  nostrils,  in  health,  are 
always  moist — an  additional  aid  in  scenting  a  victim,  for 
a  dry  nose  means  a  lessened  sense  of  smell. 

Though  inferior  to  the  cat  in  hearing,  still  its  powers  in 
this  respect  are  far  more  highly  developed  than  in  human 
beings.  Fleet  of  foot,  it  possesses  claws  certainly,  but 
they  are  not  sharply  pointed  and  never  used  in  capturing 
prey.  A  noteworthy  fact  concerning  the  dog  is  that, 
however  heated  it  may  become  in  the  chase,  it  never 
perspires  in  the  ordinary  way ;  it  breathes,  however,  some 
three  hundred  times  per  minute  in  place  of  the  usual 
thirty,  and  in  so  doing  removes  surplus  moisture  from 
the  lungs.  A  panting  dog,  therefore,  is  not  necessarily 
exhausted,  but  simply  one  that  is  removing  waste  pro- 
ducts from  his  system  in  his  own  especial  way,  instead  of 
by  perspiration,  as  with  most  other  animals. 

Hearing,  sight  and  touch,  then,  are  the  main  adjuncts 
to  successful  forays  on  the  part  of  the  cat,  and  hearing, 
sight  and  scent  on  the  part  of  the  dog.  Having  thus 
disposed  of  the  peculiarities  of  two  of  our  commonest 
animals,  we  are  free  to  examine  the  methods  by  which 
some  of  the  others  with  which  we  may  not  be  so  well 
acquainted  obtain  their  food.  It  is  only  right  to  mention 

190 


Hunters  and  Hunted 

that  teeth  are  every  whit  as  important  as  claws  and  scent 
and  hearing,  but  a  discussion  on  the  dental  armament  of 
beasts  in  general  would  lead  us  beyond  the  depths  to 
which  it  is  expedient  to  go  in  our  pages. 

All  the  wild  members  of  the  cat  family  rely  on  the 
same  faculties  as  their  domestic  relative  in  their  hunt  for 
prey,  and  they  are  aided  in  their  work  by  their  wonderful 
colouring,  which  renders  them  wellnigh  impossible  to 
detect  in  their  native  haunts.  The  tawny  coat  of  the 
lion  harmonises  beautifully  with  the  desert  sand  he  loves 
so  well ;  the  very  brilliantly  attired  tiger  is  practically 
invisible  as  he  lurks  amid  the  vegetation  of  the  jungle  ; 
the  leopard  and  jaguar  are  unconscious  mimics  of  the 
sun-flecked  ground  which  carpets  the  tropical  forests 
which  they  haunt ;  the  lynx  in  hue  matches  the  boles  of 
the  forest  trees  amongst  which  he  makes  his  home. 

Twixt  the  cats  and  dogs  we  must  pause  a  moment  to 
give  some  thought  to  those  ill-formed  beasts,  the  hyaenas. 
Their  greyish  hides  dappled  with  black  form  the  best 
possible  protection  for  such  night  prowlers  as  they  are. 
Their  long  fore  and  short  hind  legs,  their  clumsy  gait 
betoken  a  life  spent  neither  in  hunting  like  the  dog  nor 
in  springing  on  their  prey  like  the  cat.  No,  the  hyaena 
devours  either  carrion  or  attacks  some  animal  already  at 
the  point  of  death  and  therefore  quite  unable  to  defend 
itself.  Pluck  is  not  one  of  the  attributes  of  the  hyaenas. 
Their  enormously  powerful  jaws  serve  them  well  in 
devouring  their  prey  and  cracking  their  bones  to  splinters, 
and  their  extraordinarily  keen  sense  of  smell  enables 
them  to  detect  carrion  at  enormous  distances. 

Some  dogs,  of  which  wolves  and  jackals  may  be  taken 
as  typical  examples,  hunt  their  prey  in  packs  ;  their  sense 
of  smell  is  acute  and  their  sight  hardly  less  so.  But  it  is 
not  dogs  only  which  hunt  in  packs.  All  animals  become 
bolder  in  the  company  of  their  fellows.  We  can  see  it  in 
our  own  country-side :  sparrows  will  often  band  together 
in  the  face  of  some  common  enemy,  in  the  shape  of  an 

191 


Hunters  and   Hunted 

owl  or   a   hawk,  and   harry   the   unfortunate   individual 
unmercifully. 

The  South  American  peccary,  a  fierce  little  wild  pig, 
has  learned  that  unity  is  strength.  Singly,  the  peccary 
would  be  no  match  for  some  of  the  larger  cats  of  the 
South  American  forests.  Hunting  in  packs,  these  pigs 
can  even  bring  fear  to  the  heart  of  the  powerful  jaguar. 
Travellers  have  related  how  the  peccaries  will  drive  a 
jaguar  to  seek  safety  in  some  tree.  Unable  to  reach  the 
cat  in  his  temporary  sanctuary,  the  pigs  wait  below. 
Hunger  and  fatigue  inevitably  compel  the  jaguar  to 
descend,  sooner  or  later,  when  he  falls  a  victim  to  the 
patient  watchers  below. 

The  fox,  really  a  wild  dog,  is  imbued  with  certain  habits 
which  seem  almost  cat-like.  This  animal  never  hunts  in 
company  with  companions,  but  sallies  forth  in  the  evening 
to  carry  out  its  depredations  alone.  It  yields  to  few 
animals  in  sense  of  smell  and  its  sight  is  far  keener  x  than 
is  that  of  its  near  relatives  the  dog,  wolf  and  jackal ;  also, 
being  a  night  prowler,  its  pupils  are  oval  like  those  of  the 
cat.  Again,  the  fox  is  possessed  of  short  legs,  so  that  it 
relies  rather  upon  taking  its  prey  unawares  than  upon 
running  it  down.  Nevertheless,  when  circumstances 
render  it  necessary,  the  fox  is  no  mean  runner,  as  many 
a  huntsman  can  testify. 

Animals  of  the  ferret  family  are  all  born  hunters  :  stoats, 
polecats,  weasels  and  martens  are  one  and  all  blood- 
thirsty in  the  extreme.  Their  senses  of  sight,  hearing 
and  touch  are  marvellously  developed.  The  pine-marten 
has  been  described  as  the  "  nimblest  and  cleverest  of  all 
predatory  animals  which  lead  an  arboreal  life.  It  is  a 
thorough  athlete,  a  true  arboreal  creature  and  an  accom- 
plished robber,  scarcely  inferior  to  the  cat.  It  spends  the 
day  calmly  reposing  in  a  safe  hiding-place,  such  as 
the  deserted  nest  of  a  rook,  dove  or  squirrel.  At  the 
approach  of  night  it  wakes  up  for  its  murderous  occupa- 
tion. With  lightning  speed  it  runs  up  the  trunks  of  the 

192 


THREE 


ONE 


A  swordfish  and  two  killers  attacked  the  mighty  cachalot  in  vain.  He  first  bit  the  sword- 
fish  in  two,  then  stretched  one  killer  dead  upon  the  sea  with  a  blow  from  his  tail,  and  the 
other  fled  for  his  life. 


Hunters  and  Hunted 

trees  to  their  swaying  tops,  and  climbs  up  and  down 
among  the  branches ;  now,  again,  it  may  be  seen  creeping 
like  a  cat  through  the  thick  grass,  inspecting  every  nook 
and  cranny,  sniffing  at  the  holes  in  the  tree  trunks,  listen- 
ing, peering  now  here,  now  there,  in  search  of  some  sort  of 
prey  or  other,  be  it  a  sleeping  bird,  a  young  hare,  a  mouse 
or  the  like.  Now  it  has  caught  sight  of  a  squirrel.  Un- 
observed it  rapidly  ascends  the  trunk  of  the  tree  on  the 
other  side  of  the  creature  and  mounts  the  branch  on 
which  it  is  sitting.  Brushing  the  branch  with  its  belly,  it 
stealthily  creeps  up,  cautiously  placing  one  foot  in  front 
of  the  other ;  suddenly  the  squirrel  catches  sight  of  its 
pursuer  and  now  a  mad  chase  begins.  From  branch  to 
branch  leaps  the  frightened  creature,  hotly  pursued  by 
the  murderer.  With  one  mighty  leap  it  lands  upon  a 
neighbouring  tree  ;  the  pursuer  follows  ;  up  and  down  the 
trunk  the  race  continues.  It  is  only  by  taking  a  leap 
downward,  which  its  pursuer  cannot  imitate,  and  rapidly 
gaining  another  tree,  that  the  squirrel  can  hope  to  escape 
with  its  life.  Otherwise  it  is  doomed  to  succumb 
exhausted  and  yield  up  its  life  under  the  teeth  of  the 
marauder." 

The  closely  related  badger  and  otter  are  in  their 
respective  ways  admirably  adapted  for  the  capture  of 
the  prey  so  necessary  to  their  existence.  The  former  is 
a  thick-set,  clumsy  fellow,  who  can  neither  climb  like  the 
cats,  nor,  like  them,  stealthily  stalk  his  prey  ;  nor  can  he 
hunt  after  the  manner  of  the  dogs.  His  formidable  claws, 
his  almost  pig-like  snout  and  powerful  neck  all  point  to 
the  fact  that  he  is  a  digger.  His  prey,  for  the  most  part, 
is  captured  without  the  display  of  any  agility.  The  larvae 
of  various  beetles,  earthworms,  mice,  frogs  and  lizards 
make  up  his  principal  fare,  varied  now  and  again  with 
a  nestling  or  a  young  rabbit  or  hare.  Many  of  these 
creatures  live  below  ground  and  the  badger  is  not  long  in 
unearthing  them. 

The    otter,    on    the    other    hand,   though    an   expert 
N  193 


Hunters  and  Hunted 

swimmer,  is,  on  land,  nearly  as  clumsy  as  his  cousin  the 
badger.  His  prey  comprises  fish,  of  which  he  is  said  to 
consume  five  pounds  per  day,  frogs,  water  rats  and  water 
birds.  In  their  capture  he  displays  his  admirable  gifts  as 
swimmer,  to  which  may  be  added  his  keen  sight  even 
under  water  and  a  highly  developed  sense  of  touch  in  his 
long  whiskers.  The  otter  is  beautifully  adapted  for  an 
aquatic  life.  His  flexible  body,  broad,  flat  head,  his 
webbed  feet  and  flattened  tail,  which  acts  as  a  rudder,  all 
assist  his  rapid  passage  through  the  water.  His  skin  is 
oily  and  his  coat  so  thick  that  the  water  does  not  really 
wet  it ;  his  mouth,  nostrils  and  ears  can  all  be  closed 
tightly  against  the  access  of  water.  He  is,  in  short,  a 
living  submarine. 

Even  more  perfectly  adapted  to  an  aquatic  life  is  the 
common  seal,  and  this  is  very  natural,  for  it  spends  the 
greater  part  of  its  time  in  water,  whereas  the  otter  lives  in 
his  burrow  for  a  considerable  part  of  the  day  at  any  rate. 
With  his  cylindrical,  spindle-shaped  body  the  seal  is  well 
adapted  for  rapid  passage  through  the  element  in  which 
he  is  so  thoroughly  at  home.  Its  backwardly  directed, 
short  yet  powerful  fore  and  hind  limbs  form  excellent 
oars  and  rudder.  With  exceedingly  light  bones  and  a 
thick  layer  of  fat  beneath  his  skin  which  at  once  renders 
the  seal  lighter  than  it  would  otherwise  be  and  protects 
its  vital  organs  from  the  cold  water,  small  wonder  that  thes 
creature  is  an  adept  in  watermanship ;  even  its  ears  do 
not  possess  the  flaps  so  usual  in  animals,  for  these  would 
hinder  its  progress  through  the  water.  Like  the  cat,  the 
seal  hunts  by  night,  therefore  it  is  not  surprising  to  find 
that  he  is  provided  with  long  whiskers — his  usual  organs 
of  touch  ;  his  sight  too  is  extraordinarily  keen.  Its  sense 
of  smell  serves  the  seal  well  by  giving  it  information  of 
the  approach  of  enemies. 

The  bats  are  of  interest  in  that  they  apparently  possess 
a  sense  of  which  we  humans  have  no  experience.  All 
bats  are  bloodthirsty  little  creatures  ;  flying  by  night,  they 

194 


Hunters    and  Hunted 

spend  practically  all  their  waking  hours  in  the  pursuit  of 
prey.  As  the  victims  are  solely  members  of  the  insect 
world,  most  of  them  guilty  of  harming  mankind  or  his 
crops,  the  bats  can  only  be  considered  as  useful  beasts. 
As  with  all  animals  which  capture  their  prey  upon  the 
wing,  bats  have  exceedingly  large  mouths.  Swifts, 
swallows  and  nightjars  are  similarly  armed.  Their  sense 
of  hearing  is  acute,  and  in  most  of  them  the  ear-flaps  are 
enormously  developed  to  form  sound-boxes  which,  so  it 
is  said,  enable  their  owners  to  hear  moths  and  other 
insects  flying  abroad.  Their  sight  is  poor ;  in  fact  they 
place  no  reliance  upon  this  sense  when  in  pursuit  of  their 
prey. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  bat's  sense  of  touch  is  developed 
to  such  a  pitch  that  it  is  almost  beyond  our  powers  of 
comprehension.  An  experiment  has  been  performed  in 
which  a  bat's  eyes  were  covered  with  sticking  plaster, 
after  which  the  animal  was  liberated  in  a  room  from  the 
ceiling  of  which  a  large  number  of  threads  were  suspended. 
This  bat  flew  round  and  round  the  room  without  even  so 
much  as  touching  one  of  the  threads.  Prey  can  also  be 
caught  without  the  use  of  the  eyes,  the  highly  developed 
sense  of  touch  alone  sufficing  for  the  detection  of  the 
feeble  air  vibrations  of  a  flying  insect. 

Glutton  though  the  bat  may  be,  he  is  no  match  for  the 
mole,  who  daily  consumes  food  equal  to  the  weight  of  his 
own  body,  and  should  that  food  not  be  exactly  to  his 
requirements  he  has  been  known  to  eat  four  times  the 
weight  of  his  own  body  to  compensate  for  its  unsuita- 
bility.  The  prey  of  this  little  creature  consists  of  earth- 
worms, cockchafer  grubs  and  the  like ;  all  his  victims 
dwell  underground,  therefore  keen  sight  is  useless  to  the 
little  hunter.  His  sense  of  smell,  touch — by  means  of  his 
snout — and  hearing  are  remarkably  acute.  In  autumn 
the  mole  lays  up  a  large  store  of  food  for  the  winter  in 
the  shape  of  earthworms — as  much  as  six  pounds'  weight 
of  these  luckless  creatures  has  been  found  in  a  mole 

195 


Hunters  and  Hunted 

fortress.  Now  the  mole  cannot  paralyse  its  prey  as  can 
the  sand-wasp,  yet  dead  earthworms  will  soon  decay, 
even  in  frosty  weather.  The  mole  surmounts  the  difficulty 
in  an  ingenious  way ;  he  simply  bites  off  a  small  portion 
of  the  head  end  of  each  of  his  victims  and,  being  very 
tenacious  of  life,  they  continue  to  exist,  though  their 
burrowing  powers  are  ended  for  ever. 

Having  briefly  reviewed  some  of  the  notorious  hunters 
of  the  animal  world,  we  will  devote  a  little  space  to  the 
consideration  of  the  beasts  that  are  hunted,  that  we  may 
see  how  they  contrive  to  avoid  the  attentions  of  their 
enemies,  either  by  flight,  by  protective  or  warning 
colouring,  by  evil  odours  or  by  other  means. 

The  giraffe,  so  conspicuous  a  beast  in  his  enclosure  at 
the  Zoo,  by  reason  of  his  size  and  his  yellow,  brown - 
dappled  hide,  is  in  his  native  retreats,  beneath  some 
shady  tree,  preferably  an  acacia,  wellnigh  indistinguish- 
able from  his  surroundings.  Now  the  defences  of  the 
giraffe  against  the  attacks  of  wild  beasts  consist  in  rapid 
flight  and  powerful  kicks.  But  better  than  these  is  the 
power  conferred  upon  the  giraffe,  by  reason  of  its  long 
neck,  to  see  its  enemies  afar.  To  a  lesser  extent,  the 
camel  is  thus  protected ;  added  to  his  excellent  sight,  he 
possesses  a  scent  so  keen  that  he  is  reported  to  be  able 
to  smell  water  at  a  considerable  distance. 

The  elephant  one  would  imagine  to  be  sufficiently 
powerful  to  pay  little  heed  to  possible  foes,  but  even  this 
gigantic  beast  is  alert  at  all  times,  and  eager  to  avoid  an 
encounter  with  one  of  the  larger  cats.  Its  sight,  as  might 
be  guessed  from  the  small  size  of  its  eyes,  is  poor.  Its 
scent  is  extraordinarily  keen,  but,  above  all,  its  hearing  is 
very  highly  developed.  Its  gigantic  ears,  acting  as  giant 
ear-trumpets,  are  ever  on  the  alert  to  catch  the  slightest 
sound. 

Does  it  not  seem  somewhat  peculiar  that  two  totally 
dissimilar  water-loving  animals,  the  hippopotamus  and 
the  crocodile,  have  eyes  of  very  similar  design  ?  In  both 

196 


Hunters  and  Hunted 

cases  they  may  aptly  be  described  as  bulging,  and  the 
reason  for  this  is  that  the  animals  may  lie  in  hiding  quite 
below  the  surface  of  the  water,  with  the  exception  of 
their  bulging  eyes  and  nostrils  ;  thus  they  are  exceedingly 
difficult  to  detect,  but,  at  the  same  time,  can  see  all  that 
goes  on  around  them. 

A  very  cursory  survey  of  the  animal  kingdom  will 
suffice  to  show  that  nearly  every  animal,  whatever  its 
colour,  is  lighter  below  than  on  its  back.  The  reason  for 
this  is  easy  of  explanation.  A  shadow  is  cast  by  the 
animal's  body ;  so  that,  being  lighter  underneath,  this 
shadow,  which  would  render  the  animal  conspicuous,  is 
neutralised.  No  words  could  explain  this  colouring  so 
well  as  it  is  demonstrated  by  two  models  side  by  side  in 
the  Natural  History  Museum  of  London.  The  models 
consist  of  a  pair  of  birds  in  a  glass  case  with  base,  back 
and  sides  of  pale  grey.  The  birds  themselves  are  made 
of  the  same  material  as  the  lining  of  the  case  and  the 
same  colour.  One  bird  is  self-coloured,  the  other  is  white 
underneath.  Viewed  from  a  distance  and  illuminated  by 
the  light  which  enters  the  top  of  the  case,  the  self-coloured 
bird,  by  reason  of  the  shadow  underneath  it,  can  easily 
be  distinguished  from  the  background ;  the  other  bird, 
the  one  which  is  lighter  beneath,  can  only  be  distinguished 
from  the  background  with  the  greatest  difficulty. 

Some  animals  are  practically  self-coloured ;  the  lion  is 
one ;  but  the  lion  follows  up  his  prey  by  crawling  along 
close  to  the  ground,  so  that  his  under  parts  are  hidden 
from  view.  Other  animals,  and  they  are  not  many,  are 
lighter  above  than  below.  The  queer  little  water  boatman 
has  a  light-coloured  back  and  a  dark-coloured  abdomen, 
yet  he  conforms  to  the  general  rule  of  colouring,  for  he 
swims  on  his  back  and  so  his  lighter  parts  are  underneath. 

Recognition  or  identification  marks  are  nearly  as 
common  amongst  the  quadrupeds  as  amongst  the  birds. 
Several  deer,  the  wapati  is  one,  have  white  patches  on  the 
rump ;  the  rabbit  is  an  example  which  everyone  may  see. 

197 


Hunters  and  Hunted 

The  colouring  of  certain  bats  is  peculiar.  In  general 
they  do  not  agree  with  the  common  colour  scheme  in 
being  lighter  coloured  below.  Such  colouring  would  be 
of  little  advantage  to  them,  for  against  the  twilight  sky 
they  could  easily  be  seen  from  the  ground  in  any  case. 
Being  dark  above,  however,  renders  them  more  incon- 
spicuous when  viewed  from  above,  with  the  earth  as  a 
background,  and  this  helps  them  in  some  degree  to  avoid 
the  attentions  of  night-flying  owls. 

Usually  bats  have  little  to  fear  from  enemies  while  they 
are  on  the  wing,  so  they  do  not  need  to  assume  protective 
colouring.  By  day  most  of  them  lurk  in  dark  caves  and 
other  places  which  are  badly  illuminated,  and  their  sombre 
colours  again  come  to  their  aid.  Certain  bats,  however, 
are  peculiar  in  their  resting-places  ;  instead  of  shunning 
the  light,  they  rest  in  exposed  situations,  so  that  some 
sort  of  protective  colouring  is  an  essential. 

The  plantain  bat  of  India  and  Ceylon  is  such  a  creature  ; 
all  the  fur  on  the  upper  part  of  its  head  and  body  is  light 
orange,  below  its  body  is  still  lighter  coloured,  and  its 
wings  are  orange  and  black.  On  the  wing  it  strangely 
resembles  a  huge  moth.  By  day  this  bat  conceals  itself 
in  the  folded  leaf  of  a  plantain,  and  the  bat  so  closely 
resembles  the  ripe  fruit  of  this  plant  that  detection  is 
difficult.  We  should  explain  that  in  the  countries  which 
the  little  animal  inhabits  the  plantain  fruits  all  the  year 
round,  furthermore,  the  bat  closely  resembles  the  decaying 
leaves  of  the  plant. 

Another  animal  from  the  same  countries,  by  name 
Hodgson's  bat,  is  also  orange  and  black.  This  creature 
frequents  the  evergreen  longan-tree,  whose  decaying 
leaves  and  fruit  harmonise  admirably  with  the  animal 
which  hides  among  them.  A  West  African  bat  has  a 
curious,  and  at  present  unexplained,  colouring.  Its  wings 
are  white,  but  they  only  show  during  flight.  At  rest, 
with  folded  wings,  there  is  nothing  peculiar  about  the 
colouring  of  this  animal. 

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Hunters  and  Hunted 

A  Central  and  South  American  bat  is  silvery  grey  in 
colour,  but  its  unusual  hue  is  easily  accounted  for  by  the 
fact  that,  when  at  rest,  it  clings  to  the  under  sides  of  the 
coco-nut  palm  leaves,  with  which  it  harmonises  to  a 
remarkable  degree. 

Most  curious  bat  of  all  is  a  bat  hailing  from  Africa.  It 
is  curious  in  habit,  unusual  in  colouring  and  remarkable 
in  the  manner  of  its  colouring.  It  possesses  the  very 
unbatlike  habit  of  hunting  its  prey,  which  consists  of 
grasshoppers,  etc.,  by  day.  Its  fur  is  dark,  but,  in  order 
that  it  may  not  be  so  conspicuous,  and  may  be  rendered 
more  like  a  butterfly  than  otherwise  would  be  the  case,  it 
dyes  its  fur,  just  before  it  makes  a  flight,  in  the  following 
curious  manner.  On  its  rump  there  is  a  gland  from 
which  it  can  and  does  eject  an  orange-coloured  powder  ; 
this  powder  is  sticky  and  adheres  to  its  fur  so  thoroughly 
that  the  creature  is,  in  this  extraordinary  manner,  changed 
from  a  dark-coloured  to  an  orange-coloured  bat. 

One  would  think  that  the  sloth  would  fall  an  easy  prey 
to  animals  searching  for  a  tasty  meal.  Of  this  animal  it 
has  been  said  :  "  One  cannot  look  at  the  creature  without 
thinking  that  Nature  has  but  poorly  equipped  it  to  live 
in  this  murderous  world.  Its  countenance  is  a  picture  of 
complete  and  far-reaching  stupidity,  its  bodily  form  the 
acme  of  four-footed  helplessness.  It  can  neither  fight, 
hide,  nor  run  away.  It  has  no  defensive  armour,  not  even 
spines.  It  is  too  large  to  live  in  a  hole  in  a  tree,  and  too 
weak  to  dig  or  burrow  in  the  earth.  It  is  too  tired  to 
walk  on  its  feet,  as  the  monkeys  do,  so  throughout  its 
queer  life  it  hangs  underneath  the  branches  of  the  trees 
in  which  it  finds  its  food." 

The  great  naturalist  BufYon  was  even  more  downright 
in  his  description  of  these  animals,  of  which  he  said  :  "  One 
more  defect  and  they  could  not  have  existed."  How, 
then,  does  so  inert  an  animal  manage  to  evade  its 
enemies?  By  growing  green  algae  on  its  fur  and  thus 
closely  resembling  the  trees  in  which  it  dwells,  even  to  a 

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Hunters  and  Hunted 

dark  oval  mark  in  the  centre  of  its  back,  which  resembles 
the  end  of  a  broken  branch.  Of  the  animals  which  defend 
themselves  against  their  enemies  by  giving  off  foul- 
smelling  liquids,  the  most  notorious  is  the  conspicuously 
marked  American  skunk. 

One  might  reasonably  imagine  that  such  a  huge  beast 
as  the  cachalot  whale,  commonly  seventy  feet  in  length, 
would  be  free  from  the  awkward  attentions  of  the  creatures 
which  share  its  watery  home.  Yet  even  the  whale  has 
its  enemies,  which  are  usually  wise  enough  not  to  attack 
him  singly.  A  combat  between  a  sword-fish  and  two 
killers  is  recorded  in  The  .Romance  of  the  Animal  World 
by  the  late  Mr  Edmund  Selous.  The  sword-fish  first 
attacked  the  whale,  aiming  for  his  heart ;  the  whale 
avoided  the  blow  and,  with  a  deftness  remarkable  in  so 
large  a  beast,  caught  his  adversary  in  his  mouth  and  bit 
him  completely  in  half.  The  two  killers  then  joined  in 
the  attack,  but  the  cachalot,  with  a  mighty  blow  of  its 
tail,  stretched  one  of  them  dead  on  the  surface  of  the  sea ; 
the  other  killer  sought  safety  in  flight,  pursued  by  his 
mighty  adversary. 


200 


BEAVERS  TREE  FELLING 

When  the  tree  is  about  to  fall  the  beavers  make  a  dash  for  the  water  to  escape  the  un- 
welcome attentions  of  their  foes,  which  will  be  attracted  to  the  spot  by  the  crash  of  the 
falling  tree. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

ENGINEERS 

THERE  are  certain  animals  which  have  justly  earned  the 
title  of  engineers.  The  most  noted  of  these  ingenious 
beasts  is  undoubtedly  the  beaver,  once  common  in  this 
country,  but  now,  alas !  not  only  a  stranger  to  our  land 
but  rapidly  becoming  extinct  in  its  last  remaining  strong- 
holds. In  Yorkshire  the  beaver  once  held  sway,  and  the 
city  of  Beverley  is  so  named  on  account  of  its  association 
with  these  animals.  Other  towns  bear  witness  in  the 
same  manner  to  the  fact  that  beavers  were  once  common 
in  their  neighbourhoods. 

Of  the  two  species  of  beaver,  the  European  is  rapidly 
becoming  extinct,  and  the  North  American  will  assuredly 
enter  the  list  of  the  beasts  that  have  been,  before  the  world 
is  many  years  older.  There  are  no  quadrupeds  more 
social  than  these ;  others,  it  is  true,  live  together  in  large 
communities,  the  prairie  dogs,  rabbits,  wolves,  peccaries, 
but  none  work  for  the  benefit  of  the  whole  community  as 
do  the  beavers. 

That  we  may  better  understand  the  reason  for  the 
beaver's  activities,  let  us  examine  the  creature  himself  for 
a  moment.  His  compact  fur,  his  webbed  feet  and  paddle 
tail  are  all  adaptations  for  a  life  in  the  water,  and,  as 
we  shall  see,  all  the  beaver's  energies  are  devoted  to  an 
attempt  to  provide  himself  with  water,  the  element  he 
loves  so  well.  It  is  customary  for  the  beaver  to  dwelPin 
a  village,  a  village  of  huts  built  by  himself  and  his  relatives. 
Sometimes  beavers  are  found  dwelling  alone ;  they  are 
lazy  individuals  who  have  been  driven  out  of  some  village 
by  their  more  industrious  fellows.  In  each  hut  there  are 
usually  about  six  individuals,  father,  mother  and  children. 

201 


Engineers 

When  the  latter  are  three  years  old  they  forsake  their  family 
home  and  set  up  housekeeping  on  their  own  account. 
Sometimes,  however,  the  village  becomes  overcrowded  ; 
then  the  older  members  of  the  community  migrate  to 
another  spot,  leaving  the  youngsters  in  sole  possession  of 
the  abandoned  huts. 

The  engineering  proclivities  of  the  beavers  are  directed 
to  the  building  of  huts,  or  lodges,  as  they  are  termed,  and 
to  the  construction  of  dams.  The  lodges  are  of  three 
kinds,  according  to  their  situation,  but,  in  general,  they 
may  be  considered  as  dome-shaped  coverings  to  one  end 
of  their  burrows.  The  dams  hold  back  the  water  of  the 
streams  in  whose  vicinity  the  lodges  are  built,  and  there 
is  good  reason  for  their  construction,  as  we  shall  show 
later,  quite  apart  from  the  fact  that  the  beaver  always 
prefers  swimming  in  water  to  walking  on  land,  so  much 
so  that  water  is  an  absolute  necessity  for  him. 

The  building  of  the  beaver's  dam  is  one  of  the  most  in- 
genious performances  in  the  whole  of  the  animal  kingdom. 
In  the  first  place,  trees  must  be  felled,  and  the  beaver  is  no 
mean  woodman.  Provided  with  chisel-like  teeth^  he  has 
no  difficulty  in  gnawing  the  hardest  wood,  and  this  he 
proceeds  to  do  by  sitting  on  his  haunches  and  cutting  a 
deep  groove  right  round  the  tree.  As  he  gnaws  the  groove 
deeper  and  deeper,  so  he  widens  it,  till,  eventually,  the  tree 
is  given  a  waist.  This  stage  of  the  operations  is  an 
anxious  one  for  the  beaver  and  the  subject  of  considerable 
thought.  He  has  no  wish  to  be  injured  by  the  falling  tree. 
With  wonderful  instinct  he  divines  on  which  side  the  tree 
is  likely  to  fall,  so,  from  the  safe  side,  he  gives  a  few  deep 
bites  and  the  tree  is  felled. 

When  once  this  part  of  the  work  is  completed  the 
beaver  loses  no  time  in  cutting  the  timber  into  logs  about 
a  yard  in  length,  gnawing  the  wood  just  as  he  did  when 
felling  the  tree,  with  the  result  that  the  logs,  when  cut, 
have  rounded  or  almost  pointed  ends.  All  these  logs  are 
used  in  the  construction  of  the  dam,  and  the  design  of  this 

202 


Engineers 

structure  varies  according  to  the  force  of  the  current  in 
the  stream  to  be  dammed.  When  the  stream  is  slow- 
running  the  dam  is  built  straight  across  from  bank  to 
bank ;  in  faster-running  streams  the  dam  is  somewhat 
V-shaped  against  the  stream  to  break  the  force  of  the 
water. 

The  dams  vary  in  size  from  quite  insignificant  little 
structures  to  solid  masonry,  two  to  three  hundred  yards 
in  length  and  ten  or  a  dozen  feet  thick.  The  first  care  of 
the  little  engineers  is  to  remove  all  the  bark  from  the 
felled  logs ;  this  is  hidden  away  in  safe  keeping  and  serves 
as  food  when  other  provender  is  scarce.  The  bare  logs 
are  carried  by  the  beavers  to  the  bed  of  the  stream  and 
there  they  are  covered  with  mud  and  stones.  Hundreds 
of  logs  are  used,  all  of  them  being  laid  horizontally 
beneath  the  water,  and  rendered  more  secure  by  having 
slender  branches  from  the  felled  trees  twined  round  them. 
Mud,  logs  and  branches  form  a  barrier  which  effectually 
stems  the  current  and  maintains  the  water  at  a  constant 
level.  In  addition,  much  floating  material,  carried  down 
by  the  stream,  is  arrested  by  the  dam  and  adds  to  its 
stability. 

The  reason  of  all  this  activity  is  not  far  to  seek  when 
we  examine  a  beaver  lodge.  Now  the  lodge,  as  we  have 
said,  covers  one  entrance  to  the  beaver's  burrow  ;  the  other 
end  opens  into  the  water  some  distance  below  its  surface. 
We  can  easily  realise  the  importance  to  the  beaver  of 
always  having  the  water  at  constant  level.  Should  the 
height  of  the  water  vary,  it  is  likely  that,  in  dry  weather, 
the  normally  sub-aquatic  entrance  to  the  burrow  would 
become  exposed  and  thus  form  an  open  invitation  to  all 
and  sundry  to  enter  the  lodge. 

Again,  the  country  inhabited  by  beavers  is  cold  in  the 
extreme  at  certain  periods  of  the  year.  The  streams 
freeze,  so  that,  if  its  inmates  are  to  have  free  access  to 
their  lodges,  it  is  highly  essential  that  the  entrances 
should  not  be  frozen,  and  this  is  brought  about  by  their 

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Engineers 

being  well  below  the  water-level — usually  about  four  feet 
below. 

The  lodges  are  roughly  constructed  of  twigs,  branches 
and  logs  piled  higgledy-piggledy  and  plastered  freely 
with  mud.  In  outline  these  structures  are  nearly  circular 
and  in  elevation  dome-shaped,  the  diameter  being  twice 
the  height  as  a  rule.  The  inside  of  this  dome-shaped 
home  measures  about  six  feet  in  diameter  and  three  feet 
in  height ;  a  generous  store  of  grass  forms  the  comfortable 
lining.  From  time  to  time  the  lodges  are  enlarged ;  the 
wood  of  which  they  are  constructed  decays  with  the 
passage  of  time  and  is  removed  from  the  inside  by 
the  beavers  and  additions  to  compensate  for  its  loss  are 
made  on  the  outside.  These  lodges  are  mainly  used  as 
winter  homes ;  in  the  summer  most  of  the  colony  spend 
their  time  swimming  about  in  the  neighbouring  streams. 

The  musquash  or  musk-rat,  another  North  American 
animal,  is  not  unlike  its  relative  the  beaver  in  habits, 
though  as  an  engineer  it  is  not  nearly  so  ingenious.  A 
dweller  by  streams  and  ponds,  the  musquash,  like  the 
beaver,  is  by  instinct  a  burrower,  and  his  burrows  are  much 
more  complicated  than  those  of  his  cousin.  In  the  bank 
of  some  stream  the  musquash  tunnels  freely ;  the  mouth 
of  each  tunnel  opens  below  water ;  many  of  them  are  very 
long,  often  as  much  as  sixty  feet,  and  all  of  them  slope 
gently  upwards  to  open  into  a  common  chamber,  which  v 
forms  the  musk-rat's  dwelling-room. 

The  huts  which  these  animals  build  are  merely  huge 
piles  of  grass  and  other  vegetation,  from  three  to  four  feet 
in  height,  to  which  the  owners  have  access  by  burrowing 
an  opening  into  them.  The  outsides  of  these  heaps  of 
vegetation  are  freely  plastered  with  mud ;  inside,  the 
musquash  spends  the  colder  months  of  the  year,  eating 
away  the  walls  of  his  residence  meanwhile.  A  musquash 
hut,  then,  is  merely  a  storehouse  of  food,  within  which  its 
owner  dwells  so  long  as  the  food  supply  lasts. 

A  third  engineer  is  also,  curiously  enough,  a  native  of 

204 


Engi 


ineers 

North  America.  We  refer  to  the  moose  or  elk.  Although 
this  animal  is  the  largest  of  the  deer,  it  is  not  without  its 
enemies.  During  the  summer  and  in  the  depth  of  winter 
the  moose  is  well  able  to  take  care  of  itself.  It  is  powerfully 
built,  with  massive  .horns  and  a  gait  which  carries  it  over 
the  ground  at  no  mean  pace. 

At  the  end  of  the  winter,  when  the  thaw  sets  in,  this 
enormous  deer  must  make  provision  against  its  enemies ; 
its  very  size  and  weight  are  disadvantageous,  for  at  every 
step  it  sinks  knee-deep  into  the  soft  snow.  The  time  has 
arrived  for  the  moose  to  build  a  "yard,"  which  consists 
of  a  rampart  of  snow,  sometimes  four  or  five  miles  in 
diameter,  within  which  the  snow  is  trodden  down  in  a 
series  of  paths  which  form  a  veritable  network  running 
in  all  directions.  Inside  the  "yard"  the  herd  of  moose 
dwell  in  perfect  safety  till  the  winter  snows  have  passed 
and  -warmer  weather  sets  the  animals  free  from  their 
enforced  confinement. 


205 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

SAPPERS   AND   MINERS 

VAST  numbers  of  the  world's  quadrupeds  are,  by  pro- 
fession, sappers  and  miners.  Examples  of  four-footed 
beasts  which  go  to  earth  are  to  be  found  everywhere. 
One  cannot  take  a  stroll  into  the  country  in  any  part  of 
Britain  without  encountering  the  work  of  some  energetic 
burrower. 

Of  all  the  dwellers  in  darkness  none  is  more  adept  in 
his  work  than  the  mole,  none  better  adapted  for  the 
life  he  leads.  Practically  devoid  of  sight,  with  fore-feet 
like  shovels  and  highly  developed  muscles  in  his  fore- 
arms, a  sharply  pointed,  hard  nose,  and  a  fur  to  which 
the  soil  will  not  adhere,  and  of  such  a  nature  that  it 
cannot  be  rubbed  the  wrong  way,  for  the  reason  that 
there  is  no  wrong  way  with  the  mole's  fur,  this  little 
miner  is  made  for  his  job. 

Let  us  state  at  once  that  the  familiar  mole-hills,  so 
injurious  and  disfiguring  on  farm  land,  are  not  the  sites 
of  the  mole's  underground  dwelling.  The  animal  works 
near  the  surface  of  the  soil  as  a  rule,  so  near  that  his 
movements  can  be  followed  by  watching  the  tremors  of 
the  earth  above  him,  just  as  one  may  trace  the  course 
of  a  water  animal,  without  actually  seeing  it,  by  the  line 
of  ripples  on  the  water.  The  mole-hills  are  simply  heaps 
of  excavated  earth  which  the  little  animal  throws  up  to 
the  surface  of  the  ground  from  time  to  time. 

The  mole  fortress  is  a  structure  of  ample  dimensions, 
far  larger  than  a  mole-hill  at  any  rate,  and  often  attaining 
a  diameter  of  three  feet  or  so.  As  a  rule  the  animal  is 
at  little  pains  to  conceal  its  habitation,  an  oversight  that 
often  recoils  on  its  own  head,  for  the  watchful  farmer  is 

206 


Sappers  and  Miners 

ever  on  the  alert  to  destroy  this  our  foremost  sapper. 
The  mole  appears  to  have  no  choice  as  to  the  kind  of 
soil  in  which  he  burrows,  and  he  first  digs  a  round  cavity 
a  very  little  way  below  the  surface,  pushing  the  earth  to 
the  surface  as  he  works,  through  an  oblique  tunnel. 
"  When  this  superincumbent  earth  has  reached  an  in- 
convenient height  another  tunnel  is  made,  sometimes 
from  another  part  of  the  next  cavity,  but  more  often 
sideways,  from  the  first  upward  tunnel.  All  this  takes 
time,  and  the  mole  meanwhile  makes  fresh  runs  from  the 
fortress,  the  seat  of  its  labour,  in  various  directions  in 
search  of  food.  Much  of  the  earth  displaced  in  making 
these  fresh  runs  falls  into  the  nest  cavity,  and  has  to  be 
disposed  of  in  the  same  way  as  before.  Now  the  tunnel 
(or  tunnels)  leading  upwards  from  the  nest  cavity  becomes 
longer  and  longer,  winding  round  under  the  surface  of 
the  growing  fortress. 

"  The  tunnels  in  the  fortress  are  for  two  distinct  purposes  : 
(a)  Tunnels  to  eject  earth  from  the  nest  cavity  and  bolt 
run.  These  are  generally  in  the  shape  of  a  corkscrew 
ascending  from  the  nest,  and  often  diverging  into  blind 
terminals,  (b)  Tunnels  not  connected  directly  with  the 
nest  cavity,  but  traversing  the  fortress  from  runs  outside 
it.  Through  these  tunnels  the  mole  has  brought  the 
earth  to  heap  over  the  nest,  and  they  seldom  occur  except 
in  boggy  land,  where  the  nest  is  of  necessity  near  the 
surface  of  the  ground,  or  even  in  the  centre  of  the  piled- 
up  mound. 

"The  nest  cavity  is  roughly  spherical,  about  the  size 
of  a  large  cottage  loaf,  and  quite  smooth  from  constant 
friction  and  use.  The  nest,  which  completely  fills  the 
nest  cavity,  is  a  ball  of  grass  or  leaves,  or  a  mixture  of 
both.  I  have  found  a  nest  made  entirely  of  dead  beech 
leaves,  others  entirely  of  dead  oak  leaves,  and  when  it  is 
remembered  that  the  material  must  all  be  brought  in  by 
the  mouth  the  amount  of  labour  required  can  be  appreci- 
ated. When  the  nest  is  taken  out  bodily,  it  has  to  be 

207 


Sappers  and   Miners 

unwound  (if  made  of  grass)  to  find  the  centre.  There  is 
never  a  hole  apparent,  and  not  only  is  the  nest  always 
found  closed  when  the  young  are  within,  but  in  all  cases, 
even  when  old  and  long  deserted.  When  dry  grass  is 
not  obtainable  fresh  green  grass  is  used,  which  soon 
withers  and  gets  dry  with  the  heat  of  the  mole's  body. 
When  a  nest  containing  young  is  found  it  is  invariably 
infested  with  fleas  and  mites. 

"  Nearly  every  fortress  has  a  bolt  run,  by  which  the  mole 
can  escape  when  surprised  in  the  nest.  This  run  leads 
downwards  from  the  bottom  of  the  nest,  and  then  turns 
upward  and  out  of  the  fortress  by  a  tunnel  of  its  own, 
and  is  very  rarely  connected  with  any  of  the  other 
numerous  exits  of  the  fortress.  The  only  fortresses  that 
I  have  seen  without  the  bolt  run  have  been  on  marshy 
land,  where  such  a  tunnel  would  have  led  to  water." 

The  mole  is  an  energetic  sapper,  a  plucky  fighter  and 
a  glutton.  A  popular  writer  on  natural  history  once 
pictured  a  mole  magnified  to  the  size  of  a  lion,  and  he 
visualised  a  beast  more  terrifying,  more  greedy  and  more 
energetic  than  anything  that  has  been  seen  upon  the 
earth ;  he  is,  at  all  events,  in  his  actual  living  form  the 
burrowing  mammal. 

Before  we  mention  the  animal  which  is  usually  con- 
sidered to  typify  cunning,  let  us  spare  a  little  space 
for  the  wolverine  or  glutton,  the  most  cunning  of  al] 
quadrupeds.  So  wily  is  he  that  to  trap  him  is  wellnigh 
impossible ;  he  is  even  impertinent  enough  to  feed  upon 
the  trapped  animals  of  the  North  American  hunters. 
The  wolverine  will  also  enter  any  temporarily  vacated 
homestead  and  remove  all  the  portable  articles  to  the 
neighbouring  brushwood.  Exactly  the  object  of  so  curious 
a  proceeding  is  not  clear. 

The  fox,  as  befits  so  cunning  a  creature,  often  avails 
himself  of  the  rabbit's  burrow.  True,  the  rabbit  is  a 
smaller  animal  than  the  fox,  but  he  makes  a  wide  tunnel 
for  his  size  and  one  which  the  fox  can  easily  enlarge  to 

208 


POCKET-GOPHERS    IN   THEIR   HOME 

These  peculiar  creatures  spend  their  lives  underground,  like  the  mole.  The  animal  in  the  upper  division 
of  the  illustration  is  represented  thrusting  a  mass  of  earth  out  of  its  burrow.  In  the  lower  division  the 
:  interior  of  the  "  living-room"  is  shown  ;  the  animal  on  the  left  is  stretching  the  opening  of  a  po:ket  with 
one  paw  while  it  thrusts  in  a  fragment  of  potato  with  the  other.  The  young  pocket-gopher  on  the  right 
is  eating  in  a  characteristic  attitude,  the  food  being  held  between  the  paws.  Just  behind  it,  the  opening 
of  the  tunnel  which  connects  the  living-room  with  the  animals'  store-room  may  be  distinguished. 


Sappers  and  Miners 

meet  his  needs.  Being  a  much-persecuted  beast,  the  fox 
usually  sees  to  it  that  there  are  several  exits  from  his 
earth,  as  his  burrow  is  called ;  he  also  provides  himself 
with  more  than  one  earth,  so  that  when  he  is  driven  out 
of  one  home  he  may  seek  another.  When  his  home  is 
the  result  of  his  own  labours  it  is  usually  nothing  more 
than  a  simple  tunnel ;  should  he  have  purloined  the 
residence  of  some  other  sapper,  he  takes  things  as  he  finds 
them,  and  never  alters  the  dwelling  to  suit  his  needs. 

His  cousin  the  Arctic  fox  is  a  much  more  expert  miner. 
These  foxes  are  of  semi-social  habits,  crowding  together 
after  the  manner  of  rabbits,  yet  one  family  keeps  its  home 
separate  from  its  neighbour.  Their  burrows  are  always 
driven  deep  into  the  earth,  for  the  better  protection  of 
their  owners  against  the  biting  cold.  At  the  termination 
of  the  entrance  tunnels,  for  there  are  always  several  of 
these,  is  a  large  dwelling  chamber ;  from  this  chamber  a 
short  tunnel  leads  into  a  smaller  chamber,  the  nursery 
for  the  young.  Frequently  the  entrance  tunnels  are  con- 
nected with  one  another  by  cross  borings,  so  that  the 
whole  structure  is  exceedingly  complex. 

After  the  mole  our  greatest  native  sapper  is  undoubtedly 
the  badger,  formerly,  and  still  in  some  parts,  known  as 
the  brock,  hence  the  names  Brockenhurst,  Brockley  and 
a  few  others.  The  badger  is  shy  ;  he  rarely  ventures  forth 
by  day,  though  we  have  seen  him  in  playful  mood  towards 
evening  in  a  little-frequented  part  of  Yorkshire.  As  we 
have  noted  with  our  other  sappers,  the  badger's  dwelling 
contains  several  exits ;  half-a-dozen  or  more  are  not 
uncommon.  Some  of  these  side  tunnels,  it  is  presumed, 
are  built  for  ventilation  purposes ;  at  any  rate  the  badger 
rarely  makes  use  of  more  than  two  or  three  of  the  many 
ways  into  his  home.  Each  entrance  is  widely  separated 
from  the  others,  each  tunnel  may  extend  as  far  as  thirty 
feet,  and  all  the  tunnels  meet  in  a  common  chamber  five 
or  six  feet  below  ground-level.  That  some  of  the  tunnels 
are  simply  air-shafts  is  rendered  more  probable  by  the 
o  209 


Sappers  and   Miners 

fact  that  some  of  them  lead  vertically  upwards  to  the 
open  air. 

By  far  the  commonest  of  our  British  burrowers  is  the 
rabbit.  His  home  is  too  well  known,  and  he  himself  is 
so  familiar,  that  there  is  little  need  to  describe  his  work 
in  any  detail.  Like  the  Arctic  fox  we  have  just  mentioned, 
and  the  prairie  dog  we  are  about  to  describe,  the  rabbit 
is  of  social  habits.  Their  warrens  are  formed  in  any  spot 
where  the  soil  is  suitable  for  digging,  and  where  they 
have  a  reasonable  chance  of  being  unmolested.  The 
home  of  this  common  animal  comprises  a  living  chamber 
in  which  the  young  are  reared  and,  approaching  thereto, 
is  a  veritable  labyrinth  of  tunnels,  the  inevitable  bolt  hole 
never  being  omitted. 

The  prairie  dog,  which,  by  the  way,  is  not  a  dog,  but 
is  so  called  on  account  of  its  peculiar  little  yelp,  dwells 
with  its  friends  and  relations  in  a  village.  A  village,  be 
it  said,  is  merely  a  warren,  a  plot  of  land  riddled  in  every 
direction  by  the  tunnels  of  these  little  creatures,  and 
altered  in  appearance  by  the  earth  mounds  which  they 
throw  up  at  the  mouths  of  their  burrows. 

The  work  of  the  prairie  dog  is  not  carried  out  at 
haphazard,  as  is  apparently  the  case  with  the  common 
fox  and  the  rabbit,  but  is  modelled  on  a  definite  plan. 
Each  burrow  enters  the  earth  at  an  angle  of  about  forty- 
five  degrees  and  runs  downwards  for  five  feet  or  more  ; 
then  it  turns  suddenly  almost  at  a  right  angle  and  ends 
in  a  chamber,  the  home  of  the  prairie  dog,  which  is  often 
shared  by  the  burrowing  owl  and  the  rattlesnake,  to  the 
undoing  of  the  young  prairie  dogs.  Usually  there  is  a 
bolt  hole,  but  not  invariably.  Well-worn  paths  run 
from  the  entrance  of  one  burrow  to  another,  for  the 
"  dogs  "  are  very  sociable  and  constantly  visit  one  another. 

Their  villages  cover  enormous  areas  in  the  arid  wastes 
of  North  America ;  in  fact  these  animals  can  live  in 
districts  absolutely  devoid  of  water.  Towards  autumn 
all  is  quiet  in  the  village,  the  little  yelping  sentinels, 

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Sappers  and  Miners 

which  have  perched  themselves  on  the  tops  of  their 
mounds,  ready  to  give  the  alarm  signal  to  the  rest  of  the 
villagers,  throughout  the  hot  summer  months,  are  gone, 
and  each  prairie  dog  family  has  closed  its  front  door  and 
retired  to  the  inmost  recesses  of  its  burrow  to  enjoy  a 
long  winter  sleep. 

Another  expert  North  American  miner  is  the  natty  little 
chipping  squirrel,  so  called  on  account  of  its  odd  little 
cry.  Its  burrow  is  of  the  most  complicated  description. 
For  a  yard  or  so  it  ascends  perpendicularly  and  then  turns 
upwards,  winding  about  in  a  sinuous  manner.  At  the  end 
of  this  winding  underground  pathway  there  is  a  chamber 
which  is  at  once  living-room  and  nursery,  for  here  the 
mother  squirrel  constructs  her  warm,  comfortable  nest  of 
dried  leaves.  From  the  main  burrow  several  galleries 
are  run  ;  some  to  serve  as  means  of  escape  from  possible 
enemies,  others  to  form  layers  in  which  the  little  creature 
may  store  up  food  for  some  future  day.  Although  the 
squirrel  is  a  tiny  creature,  it  is  an  ardent  food  hoarder,  and 
in  one  larder  were  discovered  "  two  quarts  of  buckwheat, 
some  grass  seeds,  nearly  a  peck  of  acorns,  some  Indian 
corn  and  a  quart  of  braked  nuts"  (a  species  of  beech- 
mast). 

The  habit  of  building  sinuous  tunnels  is  one  not  easily 
explained  ;  sometimes  force  of  circumstances,  in  the  shape 
of  a  large  stone  or  a  tree  root,  will  compel  a  burrowing 
animal  to  deviate  from  its  course.  Often,  however,  these 
animal  sappers  will  make  winding  burrows  when  there  is 
nothing  apparently  to  prevent  them  from  going  straight 
ahead.  Such  a  miner  is  the  duckbill  of  Australia,  most 
anomalous  of  animals  from  that  land  of  animal  anomalies. 

The  duckbill  is  possessed  of  a  bill  like  a  duck,  its  name 
tells  us  as  much,  and  feet  strangely  resembling  that  bird's  ; 
moreover,  it  lays  eggs ;  yet  withal  it  is  a  mammal.  As 
might  be  guessed  from  an  inspection  of  its  strongly  webbed 
feet,  the  duckbill  is  an  expert  swimmer  and  as  such  makes 
its  burrows  in  the  bank  of  some  favoured  stream.  To 

211 


Sappers  and  Miners 

every  duckbill  burrow  there  are  two  entrances,  one  above 
and  one  below  the  water-level.  The  former  is  always  situ- 
ated beneath  a  clump  of  vegetation,  so  that  detection  is 
wellnigh  impossible.  From  below  the  water  the  tunnel 
ascends  at  a  fairly  sharp  angle,  but  it  winds  hither  and 
thither  through  the  soil  of  the  river  bank  and  in  all  is 
many  feet  in  length.  It  terminates  in  a  broad  oval 
chamber,  which  is  well  stocked  with  dried  grasses.  The 
young  duckbills  remain  in  their  underground  nursery  till 
they  are  more  than  half  grown,  and  it  is  lucky  for  them 
that  their  parents  will  tend  them  so  long,  for  they  are 
helpless  little  creatures. 

The  majority  of  miners  mine  for  the  express  purpose  of 
setting  up  housekeeping  below  ground.  The  mole  com- 
bines this  peaceful  avocation  with  underground  hunting 
expeditions,  for  he  will  tunnel  hither  and  thither  in  search 
of  succulent  worms.  The  curious  little  North  American 
pocket-gopher  combines  domestic  affairs  with  the  search 
for  food,  but,  being  a  vegetarian,  his  methods  are  rather 
different  to  those  of  the  mole.  This  little  miner  is  fond  of 
the  roots  of  plants,  and  much  of  his  burrowing  is  con- 
ducted with  the  express  object  of  satisfying  his  craving, 
which  he  is  enabled  to  do,  as  he  meets  with  various  roots 
during  his  underground  travels. 

The  four  paws  of  the  pocket-gopher  are  strong,  large 
and  armed  with  formidable  claws  ;  they  are,  in  short,  ad- 
mirable digging  tools.  The  most  remarkable  fact  about 
the  structure  of  these  little  creatures  is  their  possession 
of  a  roomy,  fur-lined  pouch  on  either  cheek.  We  have 
said  that  the  pocket-gopher  mines  below  ground  in  search 
of  tree  roots  ;  in  doing  so  he  keeps  about  a  foot  below  the 
surface.  In  his  wanderings  it  is  only  natural  that,  sooner 
or  later,  he  will  encounter  the  labyrinth  of  roots  belonging 
to  some  tree.  This  is  just  the  spot  he  likes  for  his  nest. 

To  tunnel  downwards  beneath  this  shelter  for  a  depth 
of  five  feet  or  so  below  the  ground-level  is  the  work  of  a 
very  short  space  of  time  for  such  a  powerful  sapper.  At 

212 


Sappers  and   Miners 

the  end  of  this  tunnel  a  large  chamber  is  built  and  in  it 
the  nest  of  dried  grass  is  constructed. 

A  second  passage  leads  from  the  nursery  to  the  larder, 
which  the  pocket-gopher  always  keeps  well  rilled.  Powerful 
as  are  the  fore-feet  of  this  little  animal,  its  teeth  are  also 
brought  into  play  when  it  is  mining  ;  they  are  made  to 
serve  as  a  pick  to  loosen  the  earth.  "  At  the  same  time 
the  fore-feet  are  kept  in  active  operation,  both  in  digging 
and  in  pressing  the  earth  back  under  the  body,  and  the 
hind  feet  are  also  used  in  moving  it  still  further  back- 
wards. When  a  sufficient  quantity  has  accumulated 
behind  the  animal,  he,  immediately  turns  in  the  burrow, 
and  by  bringing  the  wrists  together  under  the  chin  with 
the  palm  of  the  hands  held  vertically,  forces  himself  along 
by  the  hind  feet,  pushing  the  earth  out  in  front.  When 
an  opening  in  the  tunnel  is  re.ached,  the  earth  is  discharged 
through  it,  forming  a  little  hillock." 

Concerning  the  use  of  the  cheek  pouches  Dr  Merriam 
thus  describes  the  behaviour  of  a  captive  pocket-gopher : 
"  After  satisfying  the  immediate  demands  of  hunger,  it  was 
his  practice  to  fill  one  or  both  cheek  pouches.  His  motions 
were  so  swift  that  it  was  exceedingly  difficult  to  follow  them 
with  sufficient  exactness  to  see  just  how  the  operation 
was  performed.  If  a  potato  was  given  him,  or  a  piece  too 
large  to  go  into  the  pouch,  he  invariably  grasped  it  between 
the  fore-paws,  and  proceeded  to  pry  off  a  small  piece  with 
the  large  lower  incisors.  He  would  then  raise  himself 
slightly  on  his  hind  legs  and  hold  the  fragment  between 
his  fore-paws  while  eating,  for  he  usually  ate  a  certain 
quantity  before  putting  any  into  the  pouches. 

"  As  a  rule  one  pouch  is  filled  at  a  time,  though  not 
always,  and  the  hand  of  the  same  side  was  used  to  push 
the  food  in.  The  usual  course  is  as  follows  :  A  piece  of 
potato,  root,  or  other  food  is  seized  between  the  incisor 
teeth,  and  immediately  transferred  to  the  fore-paws.  The 
piece  is  then  rapidly  passed  across  the  face  with  a  sort  of 
wiping  motion,  which  forces  it  into  the  open  mouth  of  the 

213 


Sappers  and  Miners 

pouch.  Sometimes  a  single  rapid  stroke  with  one  hand 
is  sufficient ;  at  other  times  both  hands  are  used,  particu- 
larly if  the  piece  is  large.  In  such  cases  the  long  claws 
of  one  hand  are  used  to  draw  down  the  lower  side  of  the 
opening,  while  the  food  is  poked  in  with  the  other. 

"  The  most  remarkable  thing  connected  with  the  use  of 
the  pouches  is  the  way  they  are  emptied.  The  fore-feet 
are  brought  back  simultaneously  along  the  sides  of  the 
head  until  they  reach  a  point  opposite  the  hinder  end  of 
the  pouches ;  they  are  then  pressed  firmly  against  the 
head  and  carried  rapidly  forward.  In  this  way  the  contents 
of  the  pouches  are  promptly  deposited  in  front  of  the 
animal.  Sometimes  several  strokes  are  necessary.  I 
have  never  seen  them  emptied  in  any  other  way." 


214 


CHAPTER   XIX 

NEST-BUILDERS 

QUADRUPEDS  are  not,  generally  speaking,  proficient  nest- 
builders.  Perhaps  we  unconsciously  compare  their  efforts 
with  those  of  the  birds,  who,  as  architects,  are  beyond 
compare.  Frequently  the  four-footed  nest-builders  are 
more  interesting  in  the  methods  they  employ  for  building 
their  nests  than  in  the  results  they  obtain.  A  builder  of 
this  type  is  the  pencilled  bettong  or  brush-tailed  rat 
kangaroo,  a  native  of  Australia.  About  the  size  of  a 
hare,  with  a  tail  nearly  a  foot  in  length  and  tufted  at  the 
end,  this  pretty  brown  kangaroo  rat  is  an  ingenious 
architect. 

Let  us  not  run  away  with  the  idea  that  quadrupeds  or 
birds,  when  about  to  build,  select  a  site  at  haphazard. 
We  have  mentioned  the  diligent  search  of  the  reed- 
warbler  in  its  attempts  to  find  a  suitable  clump  of  reeds 
for  the  foundation  of  its  nest,  also  we  noted  the  anxiety  of 
the  golden  oriole  that  all  should  be  well.  Probably  all 
builders,  furred  and  feathered,  give  more  thought  to  the 
matter  than  we  might  surmise ;  certainly  the  brush-tailed 
rat  kangaroo  hunts  high  and  low  to  find  a  hollow  in  the 
ground  near  a  high  tuft  of  vegetation,  for  this  is  the  kind 
of  spot  it  loves  so  well.  A  suitable  depression  having 
been  found,  the  little  animal  proceeds  to  roof  it  over  with 
grass  and  leaves,  which  it  is  often  compelled  to  carry  from 
a  distance.  Having  wandered  from  her  home  to  collect 
nest-building  material,  the  little  animal  gathers  together 
what  she  requires,  rolls  it  into  a  bundle  with  her  tail  and, 
wrapping  it  tightly  round  her  burden,  hops  away  with  it 
to  her  nesting  site. 

Now  this  crude  nest  may  be  used  for  a  dual  purpose,  as 

215 


Nest-Builders 

a  home  for  the  upbringing  of  the  young  and  as  a  resting- 
place  for  the  adults ;  the  former  is  probably  the  chief 
object  of  its  construction.  The  brush-tailed  rat  kangaroos 
are  nocturnal  in  their  habits,  and  they  spend  the  hours  of 
light  within  their  nest,  after  having  carefully  closed  the 
entrance,  by  means  of  a  tuft  of  grass,  before  retiring  to 
rest.  Their  little  homes  are  very  difficult  to  detect,  built 
as  they  are  amongst  long  herbage  and  never,  by  any 
chance,  being  situated  at  a  higher  level  than  the  surround- 
ing vegetation. 

Another  Australian  nest-building  quadruped  is  the 
rabbit-eared  bandicoot.  About  the  size  of  a  rabbit,  with 
long,  broad  ears  and  hind  legs  of  such  a  length  that  its 
gait  is  awkward,  yet  it  cannot  leap  like  the  kangaroo. 
The  rabbit-eared  bandicoot  is  one  of  the  oddities  of  nature. 
It  frequents  ground  broken  by  scattered  tufts  of  vegeta- 
tion, just  the  districts  favoured  by  the  rat  kangaroos,  and 
the  nests  of  the  two  animals  are  very  similar.  If  any- 
thing, the  bandicoot  is  the  more  adept  at  concealing  its 
abode. 

A  far  more  proficient  architect  than  either  the  bandicoot 
or  the  rat  kangaroo  is  our  little  harvest  mouse.  This 
diminutive  creature  is  one  of  the  smallest  quadrupeds 
known,  weighing,  when  full  grown,  little  more  than 
a  sixth  of  an  ounce.  He  is  a  familiar  object  of  wheat- 
fields  with  his  rich  red-brown  coat,  which  gives  place  to 
clear  white  below. 

The  nest  of  the  harvest  mouse  is  an  elegant  and  com- 
fortable structure ;  the  materials  of  which  it  is  composed 
may  be  wool,  rags,  hair,  moss  or  feathers,  though,  usually, 
the  little  builder  looks  no  further  for  its  nesting  material 
than  the  grass  and  leaves  amongst  which  its  nest  is 
suspended.  These  leaves  it  plaits  and  weaves  with  con- 
summate skill,  tearing  the  broader  leaves  lengthways,  that 
they  may  better  be  used  in  its  scheme  of  nest  construction. 
The  completed  nest  is  a  little  larger  than  a  cricket  ball, 
of  similar  shape  and  beautifully  neat  and  compact ;  its 

216 


BUILDING  A  HOME 

The  brush-tailed  rat-kangaroos  carry  the  grass  for  building  their  nests  by  means  of  their 
prehensile  tails.  Their  appearance  when  leaping  over  the  ground  bearing  a  little  sheaf  in 
this  manner  is  exceedingly  grotesque  and  amusing. 


Nest-Builders 

hollow  interior  is  lined  with  vegetable  down  or  some  other 
soft  material. 

When  the  nest  is  temporarily  untenanted  or  contains 
young  ones  which  the  mother  has  left,  for  the  time  being, 
to  their  own  devices,  there  is  apparently  no  entrance,  for 
the  reason  that  the  little  door  of  the  nest  is  covered,  by 
the  mother  mouse,  with  grass  or  with  whatever  material 
is  used  in  the  construction  of  the  nest.  The  trim  little 
sphere  is  usually  attached  to  stout  grass  stems  or  to  wheat, 
occasionally  even  the  branches  of  a  low  shrub  or  the  leaf 
stalks  of  a  thistle  may  act  as  a  support,  but  always  the 
nest  is  placed  at  some  height  from  the  ground.  The 
little  mice  are  good  climbers  and  very  active,  as  may  be 
gathered  from  the  fact  that  they  gain  a  livelihood  by 
capturing  bumble-bees  and  insects  of  the  like  kind. 
Though  so  exquisite  a  nest-builder,  the  little  harvest 
mouse  spends  its  winter  in  a  hole  below  ground. 

Squirrels'  nests,  mainly  by  reason  of  their  larger  size, 
are  better  known  than  the  more  finished  home  of  the 
harvest  mouse.  Though  apparently  roughly  constructed, 
closer  inspection  will  show  that  the  squirrel  deftly  weaves 
together  the  twigs,  leaves,  grass  and  pieces  of  bark  of 
which  its  nest  is  composed.  Moss  and  leaves  form  the 
lining,  and  the  whole  structure  is  roughly  spherical  in 
shape,  with  an  opening  at  the  side.  The  roof  of  the  nest, 
despite  its  apparent  flimsiness,  is  absolutely  rain-proof. 
It  is  a  peculiarity  of  squirrels  that  they  build  more  than 
one  nest  at  a  time,  with  what  object  it  is  not  quite 
clear.  Should,  however,  the  inhabited  nest  be  disturbed 
whilst  tenanted  by  the  young  squirrels,  the  mother 
promptly  removes  them  one  by  one,  in  her  mouth,  to  one 
of  the  other  nests,  which  may  be  nothing  more  or  less 
than  a  converted  magpie's  nest. 

The  dormouse  is  a  very  neat  little  nest-builder. 
Selecting  a  site  in  some  shady  bush,  the  industrious  little 
creature  gathers  together  a  store  of  dried  grass  and  leaves 
for  the  construction  of  its  home.  The  completed  structure 

217 


Nest-Builders 

is  oval  in  shape  and  so  deftly  concealed  is  the  entrance 
hole  that  it  is  impossible  for  the  inexperienced  eye  to 
find  it.  Seeing  that  the  dormouse  sleeps  for  the  greater 
part  of  the  day — his  name  implies  that  he  is  a  sleeper — 
he  probably  pays  very  special  attention  to  his  nest,  that 
enemies  may  not  fall  upon  him  during  his  siesta.  The 
dome  of  the  nest  is  constructed  loosely  of  interlaced  grass 
leaves ;  the  lower  half  of  the  nest  is  made  of  finer  grass, 
and  very  special  care  is  bestowed  upon  its  weaving  ;  often, 
indeed,  these  fine  grasses  are  bound  together  with  the 
stems  of  climbing  plants.  The  door  which  covers  the 
entrance  to  the  nest  is  formed  of  grass  leaves,  ingeniously 
arranged  to  exclude  intruders. 

The  short-tailed  field-mouse  builds  a  summer  nest 
which  is  deserving  of  a  few  words.  Placed  on  the 
ground  in  a  little  hollow  in  the  earth,  and  usually 
hidden  by  a  clump  of  grass  or  other  herbage,  it  is 
by  no  means  easy  to  find.  The  building  material  is 
grass,  nibbled  into  small  pieces  and  shredded,  so  that 
it  appears  like  flax  or  some  similar  fibre.  Of  door  to 
the  nest  there  simply  appears  to  be  none,  so  skilfully 
is  it  concealed. 

The  common  mouse  is  not  so  particular  as  its  relatives  ; 
it  will  build  in  the  most  unlikely  places ;  no  situation, 
no  material  comes  amiss  to  him.  His  natural  building 
material  consists  of  dried  grasses.  In  his  semi-domesticated 
state  he  will  make  use  of  paper,  string,  material  of  all 
kinds  and  even  dress  clothes,  as  the  author  can  testify 
to  his  cost.  The  nests  are  placed  in  drawers,  bottles, 
upturned  flower-pots  and  the  like ;  even  the  homely  loaf 
of  bread  does  not  come  amiss  ;  in  fact  there  is  an  authentic 
record  of  such  a  site  being  selected.  A  newly  baked  loaf 
of  bread  was  put  away  and,  on  the  following  day,  a  hole 
was  observed  in  the  loaf.  Further  examination  revealed 
the  fact  that  a  mouse  had  built  a  nest  of  paper  therein, 
and  deposited  a  number  of  youngsters.  Incredibly  quick 
work  for  the  loaf  to  cool,  the  cavity  to  be  eaten  away,  the 

218 


Nest-Builders 

paper  nest  to  be  built  and  the  young  to  be  born — all  in 
the  space  of  thirty-six  hours  ! 

The  man-like  apes  are  all  crude  nest-builders,  but  in  no 
case  can  they  be  considered  as  permanent  structures ;  in 
fact,  when  the  food  supply  of  the  district  is  running  short 
a  move  is  usually  made  to  another  district  and  a  new  nest 
is  built.  The  chimpanzee  builds  his  nest  of  branches, 
which  he  bends  and  breaks  to  suit  his  purpose  and  inter- 
twines them  so  that  they  form  a  fairly  substantial  platform, 
usually  about  twenty-five  feet  from  the  ground.  Report  has 
it  that  the  male  does  not  share  the  nest  with  his  mate,  but 
that  he  rests  on  a  branch  below,  where,  at  anyrate,  he 
finds  shelter  from  the  tropical  rains. 

Another  kind  of  chimpanzee  builds  a  more  elaborate 
nest,  if  it  can  be  called  a  nest,  by  tying  twigs  and  branches 
to  the  trunk  of  a  tree  by  means  of  the  stems  of  creepers. 
This  structure  merely  forms  a  shelter  from  the  inclement 
weather  and  the  apes  themselves  rest  on  a  branch  beneath 
their  building.  Males  and  females  have  separate  shelters, 
and  in  neither  case  will  they  build  in  a  tree  which  has 
any  branches  near  the  ground,  their  choice  of  tree  being 
prompted  no  doubt  by  the  probability  or  otherwise  of 
some  enemy  ascending.  Immediately  the  shelter  fails  to 
keep  out  the  rain  another  is  built. 

The  orang-outang  is  no  better  nest-builder  than  his 
cousins.  He  simply  makes  a  platform  of  small  branches, 
laid  side  by  side,  after  having  been  bent  double  in  the  middle. 
To  make  his  nest  more  comfortable  he  gathers  leaves  to 
upholster  his  couch.  Not  so  very  long  ago  the  orang- 
outang in  the  London  Zoo  escaped  from  his  cage.  He 
promptly  took  up  his  abode  in  the  nearest  tree  and  all 
attempts  to  dislodge  him  failed.  While  enjoying  his 
temporary  freedom  he  was  by  no  means  idle,  for  he 
tore  the  branches  from  the  tree  and,  bending  them 
in  characteristic  manner,  built  for  himself  a  nest  on 
which  he  took  his  ease  and  from  which  he  surveyed 
the  world  at  large,  till  hunger  forced  him  to  come  to 

219 


Nest-Builders 

the  ground,  when  he  was  captured  and  once  more  made  a 
prisoner. 

Whether  the  gorilla  does  or  does  not  construct  a  nest 
is  a  moot  point.  By  some  observers  he  is  said  to  build  a 
nest  of  reeds  and  moss,  not  far  from  the  ground  or  even 
upon  it,  and  to  guard  it  whilst  the  female  and  her  young 
rest  upon  it. 


220 


CHAPTER   XX 

SEASONAL    CHANGES 

"  A  LIVING  animal  is  almost  always  either  acting  upon  its 
surroundings  or  being  acted  upon  by  them,  and  life  is  the 
relation  between  two  variables  —  a  changeful  organism 
and  a  changeful  environment."  We  ought,  therefore,  to 
consider  animals  in  relation  to  their  surroundings.  A 
very  slight  acquaintance  with  nature  will  show  us  that 
there  are  certain  changes  which  may  be  ascribed  to  the 
cycle  of  the  seasons.  The  shedding  of  their  antlers  by 
deer,  the  courting  plumage  of  birds,  the  winter  coats  of 
the  ermine  and  mountain  hare,  the  hibernation  of  the 
dormouse  are  one  and  all  due  to  outside  influence.  The 
seasons  bring  with  them,  in  the  main,  changes  of  tempera- 
ture, heat  and  cold  alternate,  and  these  variations  in 
temperature  have  their  direct  effect  on  animal  life.  In- 
directly animals  feel  the  changes  of  the  seasons ;  at 
certain  periods  food  is  scarce,  at  others  plentiful.  Other 
externals  besides  the  effects  of  the  seasons  play  their 
parts  in  moulding  the  lives  of  the  creatures  of  the  earth. 

Changes  of  temperature  have  very  marked  effects  upon 
most  living  beings.  Some  of  these  effects  are  obvious,  as, 
for  instance,  the  assumption  of  white  plumage  by  the 
ptarmigan,  and  the  paling  of  the  fur  of  the  variable  hare 
or  of  the  stoat.  Sometimes  these  effects  are  not  so  obvious 
and  can  only  be  determined  by  experiment  similar  to  that 
of  Maupas,  who  experimented  with  a  single-celled  animal, 
one  of  the  lowest  in  the  animal  kingdom. 

Let  us  hasten  to  explain  that  these  lowly  creatures 
increase  by  dividing  themselves  into  two  parts,  each  half 
forming  a  new  individual.  Now  Maupas  found  that  the 
particular  organism  in  which  he  was  interested  divided 

221 


Seasonal  Changes 

once  a  day,  when  the  temperature  of  the  water  in  which 
it  lived  was  between  7°-io°C. ;  with  an  increase  of 
temperature  to  io°-i5°C.  division  occurred  twice  a  day ; 
at  I5°-20°C.  thrice;  at  2O°-24°C.  four  times,  and  at 
24°-27°C.  five  times.  At  the  last  temperature  one 
individual  in  four  days  became  the  father  of  a  million, 
in  six  days  of  a  billion,  in  seven  days  of  one  hundred 
billions,  weighing  one  hundred  kilogrammes.  In  short, 
cold  lessens  vitality ;  its  usual  accompaniment  also  is  a 
reduced  food  supply. 

Nowhere  in  the  animal  kingdom  can  the  combined 
influence  of  warmth  and  plentiful  food,  as  opposed  to  cold 
and  a  deficient  food  supply,  be  studied  to  more  advantage 
than  in  the  case  of  the  green-flies  or  aphides.  In  the 
summer,  when  the  weather  is  warm  and  food  abundant, 
these  creatures  multiply  in  a  phenomenal  manner  and  at 
an  extroardinary  rate.  All  the  individuals  are  females 
and  bring  forth  their  young  without  the  aid  of  males — the 
most  rapid  form  of  animal  increase.  Every  few  hours,  for 
days  on  end,  the  mother  aphis  produces  her  young.  So 
astonishingly  rapid  is  the  increase  that,  accidents  apart — 
that  is  to  say,  if  all  her  offspring  survived — she  would 
be  at  the  end  of  one  year  the  mother  of  a  family  whose 
combined  weight  would  more  than  equal  that  of 
500,000,000  men. 

With  the  advent  of  winter,  food  becomes  scarce  and  the 
temperature  is  reduced ;  as  a  result,  males  appear  and  the 
birth-rate  is  reduced  so  rapidly  that,  were  the  aphides 
but  human,  columns  would  be  written  in  the  newspapers 
suggesting  wild  remedies  and  drawing  attention  to  the 
serious  state  of  affairs.  But  the  return  of  summer  sets 
the  ball  rolling  again  for  the  aphides ;  in  fact,  certain 
specimens  which  were  kept  in  a  greenhouse,  with  plenty 
of  warmth  and  abundance  of  food,  never  slackened  their 
family  affairs  for  a  single  day  during  a  period  of  four 
years. 

The  question  of  food  supply  is  a  very  important  one 

222 


Seasonal  Changes 

to  all  animals  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest.  Ill-nurtured 
humans  are  often  small  and  stunted,  and  the  same  is  the 
case  with  the  lower  animals.  An  insect  which  in  its  larval 
stage  has  had  little  or  unsuitable  food,  will  produce  an 
adult  considerably  smaller  in  size  than  another  insect  of 
the  same  kind  which  has  been  fortunate  enough  to  find 
abundant  food.  There  are  special  cases,  however,  where 
fasting  appears  to  do  no  harm,  and  other  cases  where  it 
seems  necessary.  All  the  parasitic  insects  which  are 
nourished  upon  blood  can  fast  for  extraordinarily  long 
periods  without  food  ;  fleas,  ticks  and  the  like  can  fast 
for  months,  and  in  extreme  cases  for  years,  without  a  bite, 
and  this  is  a  very  wise  provision  of  Nature,  for  the  special 
food  of  these  creatures  is  not  always  easy  to  obtain.  At 
certain  periods  in  the  lives  of  some  animals  fasting  is 
necessary,  as  witness  the  chrysalis,  which  never  eats,  and 
the  tadpole,  which  fasts  before  it  becomes  a  frog. 

Winter,  again,  with  its  concomitant  cold,  is  a  season  of 
fasting  for  many  animals.  The  hedgehog  and  the  dor- 
mouse, to  quote  common  examples,  simply  curl  themselves 
up  in  some  well-prepared  hiding-place  and  enter  into  a 
long  sleep,  till  sunny  skies  call  them  once  more  to  activity 
and  food.  During  hibernation,  as  this  winter  sleep  is 
called,  many  of  the  ordinary  functions  of  the  body  are 
in  abeyance,  and  others  occur  at  a  very  much  lower  rate 
than  is  usual.  The  long  rest  takes  place  at  the  expense 
of  stored-up  fat  in  the  tissues,  for  most  hibernating 
animals  are  decidedly  plump  before  their  winter's  sleep, 
and  somewhat  emaciated  when  they  make  their  re- 
appearance. 

That  not  only  the  quantity  but  the  quality  of  food  has 
a  marked  effect  upon  animals  is  a  well-known  fact.  It  is 
shown  clearly  in  the  case  of  canaries  which  are  artificially 
fed  upon  food  containing  cayenne  pepper.  The  result 
of  this  feeding  is  to  produce  birds  with  orange-coloured 
instead  of  the  usual  lemon-coloured  feathers.  With  the 
seasons,  again,  many  animals  change  their  diet  rather 

223 


Seasonal  Changes 

than  starve,  The  herring-gull  leads  an  agricultural  life 
during  the  summer,  feeding  upon  any  cereals  he  can  find  ; 
in  the  winter,  when  grain  is  at  a  premium,  he  returns  to 
his  diet  of  fish. 

The  effects  of  light  cannot  altogether  be  dissociated 
from  the  changes  of  the  seasons.  In  winter  the  light  is 
much  less  intense  than  it  is  in  summer,  as  every  photog- 
rapher knows.  To  attempt  to  trace  the  subtle  changes 
which  take  place  owing  to  the  reduced  power  of  the 
light  in  winter  or  its  increase  in  summer  would  be  beyond 
the  scope  of  our  pages,  but  that  light  does  affect  animal 
life  we  propose  to  show.  The  colouring  of  the  common 
sole  or  plaice  or  flounder  is  well  known  to  everyone  ;  every 
fish  shop  in  the  country  can  show  samples  with  which  we 
may  refresh  our  memories.  Sand-coloured  above,  white 
or  nearly  so  below  is  a  description,  a  rough  description 
certainly,  which  applies  equally  well  to  all  three. 

On  the  upper  surface  of  these  flat  fish  a  certain  amount 
of  light  falls,  even  in  the  ocean  depths  ;  their  under  sides 
for  the  greater  part  of  the  day  lie  on  the  sand,  and  are 
not  exposed  to  light,  and  that  is  the  reason  they  are 
white.  Now  early  in  its  career  not  one  of  these  flat  fish 
is  flat.  The  statement  sounds  Irish,  but  it  is  none  the  less 
true.  The  plaice,  for  example,  when  young  is  an  ordinary- 
looking  fish,  with  one  eye  on  either  side,  and  it  swims  in 
the  usual  fish  manner.  As  it  attains  maturity  it  becomes 
flattened,  the  side  that  is  to  be  the  lower  grows  paler  and 
paler  in  colour  and,  most  remarkable  change  of  all,  the 
eye  that  has  appeared  in  danger  of  becoming  useless 
owing  to  its  position  below  the  fish  gradually  grows 
round  to  the  upper  surface. 

But  all  this  is  by  the  way  ;  we  are  only  concerned  with 
the  effects  of  light.  Experiments  have  been  carried  out 
with  flounders  which,  instead  of  being  permitted  to  rest 
upon  the  sand,  as  is  their  habit,  have  been  illuminated 
from  below  by  means  of  mirrors,  with  the  result  that  their 
under  sides  assumed  the  duller  hues  of  the  upper  sides. 

224 


Seasonal   Changes 

Fishes  kept  in  the  dark  will  eventually  become  colourless, 
if  they  survive  the  ordeal,  as  many  of  them  will.  Many 
creatures  live  normally  in  dark  caves  where  not  a  ray  of 
light  ever  reaches  them  ;  such  an  animal  is  the  proteus,  a 
salamander  from  the  caves  of  Dalmatia.  In  colour  it  is 
a  very  delicate  pink — in  reality  it  is  white,  but  its  blood 
gives  it  a  pink  hue.  Now  when  the  proteus  is  brought 
into  the  light  it  gradually  turns  black  ;  moreover,  such 
specimens  produce  black  young. 

External  influences,  not  directly  due  to  changes  of 
season,  may,  naturally,  effect  animal  life.  As  proof  of 
this  statement  there  is  a  familiar  and  easily  performed 
little  experiment  which  anyone  may  try.  The  common 
tadpole,  as  everyone  knows,  will,  under  normal  conditions, 
develop  into  a  frog ;  in  doing  so  it  loses  its  feathery  gills 
and  abandons  its  purely  aquatic  life,  becoming  an  air- 
breathing  creature  and  more  or  less  terrestrial.  If,  how- 
ever, perforated  zinc  or  some  similar  material  be  placed 
just  below  the  surface  of  the  water  in  which  the  tadpoles 
live,  in  such  a  manner  that  they  are  prevented  from  coming 
to  the  surface,  they  will  retain  their  gills  and  continue  to 
grow  for  two  or  three  years,  growing  in  that  time  into 
veritable  tadpole  giants. 

Now  there  is  a  most  extraordinary  relative  of  the  frog 
which  is  blessed  with  two  names  ;  it  is  sometimes  called 
the  axolotl  and  sometimes  the  amblystoma.  It  came 
by  its  two  names  quite  by  accident,  and  retains  them 
more  by  courtesy  than  by  right.  The  axolotl  resembles 
a  large  newt,  and  its  home  is  in  the  North  American  lakes. 
It  has  lungs  and  also  breathing  gills  like  a  tadpole ;  its 
tail  is  large  and  flattened  sideways.  Now  in  the  same 
lakes  and  on  their  shores  the  amblystoma  dwells  ;  devoid 
of  gills,  and  with  a  lizard-like  tail,  it  only  bears  a  slight 
resemblance  to  the  axolotl.  As  may  be  inferred,  the 
young  axolotls  grow  into  old  axolotls,  and  the  young 
amblystomas  into  old  amblystomas  ;  on  the  face  of  it,  there 
is  nothing  remarkable  in  that.  But  imagine  the  surprise 
p  225 


Seasonal  Changes 

of  various  naturalists  when  some  axolotls  which  were 
kept  in  the  Jardin  des  Plantes  in  Paris,  finding  their 
water  supply  was  running  short,  turned  into  amblystomas. 
Then  and  then  only  was  it  discovered  that  the  creatures 
were  one  and  the  same,  that  the  axolotl  is  simply  the 
larval  form  of  the  amblystoma,  but  withal  a  larval  form 
which  has  so  far  developed  that  it  can  reproduce  its  kind, 
an  event  which  is  impossible  in  the  case  of  the  tadpoles. 

The  seasonal  changes  in  certain  tropical  butterflies  are 
very  marked  and  very  remarkable,  as  a  study  of  this  species 
in  any  good  museum  will  show.  That  tropical  insects 
should  have  summer  and  winter  forms  is  as  remarkable 
as  is  the  difference  between  these  forms.  One  explanation, 
and  a  plausible  one,  is  that  the  changes  are  due  to  the 
still  surviving  efforts  of  the  glacial  epoch.  During  this 
epoch  there  was  perhaps  only  one  form — the  winter  form. 
Change  of  climate  then  produced  the  summer  form. 
In  this  connection  it  is  interesting  to  note  that  by  keeping 
the  chrysalids  of  these  butterflies  which  should  develop 
into  summer  forms  in  artificial  cold,  they  will  emerge  as 
winter  forms. 


226 


CHAPTER   XXI 

REPTILES 

FOR  some  unknown  reason  reptiles  are  looked  upon  with 
a  certain  amount  of  repulsion  by  most  people  ;  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  they  are  creatures  of  the  greatest  interest,  their 
habits  are  often  strange,  their  beauty  is  frequently 
dazzling.  Maybe  they  are  less  ingenious  than  the  birds 
or  insects,  the  former  of  which  are  very  close  relatives 
of  the  reptiles  though  so  dissimilar  in  appearance.  At  a 
casual  glance  the  reptiles  strike  one  as  being  an  incon- 
gruous crew — tortoises  and  turtles  have  many  points  in 
common  certainly,  but  the  legless  snakes,  the  lizards  and 
the  alligators  and  crocodiles  make  up  a  strange  band  of 
animals. 

The  turtles,  of  which  one  species  is  so  much  in  demand 
by  gourmands  the  world  over,  are  aquatic,  creatures  of 
the  sea  and  of  rivers.  They  rarely  leave  their  watery 
homes,  except  for  the  purpose  of  egg-laying.  The  food 
of  many  of  these  animals  consists  wholly  of  fish,  and  it 
is  remarkable  how  such  slow-moving,  almost  lethargic, 
creatures,  whose  movements  below  water  closely  resemble 
the  flight  of  a  bird,  can  capture  agile  fishes.  We  all 
know  how  the  domestic  cat,  the  familiar  rabbit  and  many 
other  animals  are  in  the  habit  of  travelling  along  the 
same  route  or  run  day  by  day.  Many  fishes  also  travel 
along  the  same  route  each  day,  and  the  turtle  is  not  long 
in  discovering  this  trait  of  his  prey.  Being  a  cunning 
creature,  he  partially  embeds  himself  in  the  mud  below 
the  fishes'  favoured  way ;  the  unsuspecting  fishes,  mis- 
taking the  turtle  for  some  muddy  rock,  swim  near  by  and 
are  instantly  seized  in  the  powerful  jaws  of  the  keen-eyed 
turtle. 

227 


Reptiles 

Some  of  the  fresh-water  turtles  make  their  meals  of 
frogs,  and  experience  has  taught  them  that  their  prey  is 
in  the  habit  of  sitting  by  the  edge  of  their  pond,  facing 
the  shore,  that  they  may  snap  up  any  insects  that  may 
be  unwary  enough  to  settle  on  the  plants  fringing  the 
water.  The  turtles  approach  the  frogs  quietly  from 
behind,  and  seize  them  before  they  have  time  to  regain 
the  deeper  water,  in  which  they  would  be  able  to  make 
good  their  escape. 

Towards  the  middle  of  the  summer  the  female  turtle 
devotes  herself  to  maternal  affairs.  At  this  period  she 
wanders  far  from  her  beloved  water  until  she  finds  a 
situation  where  the  soil  is  soft  and  muddy.  In  the  mud 
she  wallows  and  digs  in  leisurely  fashion  till  almost 
buried,  an  operation  which  may  occupy  at  least  a  week. 
Next  she  lays  several  dozen  quite  round,  white  eggs,  then, 
pulling  herself  out  of  the  slough  by  means  of  her  powerful 
fore-legs,  the  mud  slides  back  from  her  polished  shell, 
leaving  the  eggs  well  covered,  and  her  maternal  duties 
are  at  an  end,  for  she  takes  no  more  thought  of  her  brood. 

The  turtle  is  no  fool,  for  he  knows  many  tricks  and 
dodges.  In  deep  water  he  can  escape  from  most  of  his 
enemies  by  swimming ;  in  shallow  water  he  is  at  a  dis- 
advantage, so  what  does  he  do  when  danger  threatens  ? 
He  simply  makes  for  the  muddy  bottom  of  his  retreat 
and  there  causes  such  a  stir  that  the  water  becomes 
cloudy  and  he  is  lost  to  view.  As  the  mud  particles 
settle  down,  the  turtle  keeps  a  sharp  look-out  for  his 
enemy.  Should  he  have  taken  his  departure  all  is  well ; 
on  the  other  hand,  if  danger  be  still  present,  he  stirs  up 
another  mud  cloud  and  in  its  shelter  rapidly  scrambles 
to  another  hiding-place.  His  action  is  similar  to  that 
of  the  cuttle-fish  under  similar  circumstances,  though  his 
means  of  escape  is  effected  in  a  different  manner.  Sea- 
weeds grow  on  the  backs  of  some  turtles ;  in  consequence 
they  become  akin  to  sea-washed  rocks  in  appearance 
and  are  well  hidden  from  their  enemies. 

228 


Reptiles 

The  feeding  habits  of  the  edible  turtle  are  worth 
passing-  notice.  This  creature  feeds  on  a  sea  plant,  and 
feeds  on  it  voraciously,  but  the  plant  grows  in  shallow 
water  and  shallow  water  spells  danger  to  the  turtle. 
Having  taken  his  fill,  therefore,  the  ingenious  turtle  chops 
up  more  of  the  favoured  plant  with  his  scissor-like  jaws, 
and  mixes  the  chopped  pieces  with  mud  ;  this  mud  or 
vegetable  mixture  is  then  rolled  into  a  ball  about  the  size 
of  one's  head  and  floated  out  to  sea  to  form  a  food  supply 
to  which  the  turtle  may  turn  in  time  of  need. 

Some  tortoises  live  in  burrows  after  the  manner  of 
rabbits.  The  American  gopher-tortoise  is  a  case  in 
point ;  in  the  dry,  sandy  southern  states  it  is  plentiful, 
living  in  regular  warrens.  Each  burrow  is  sharply 
oblique  for  a  yard  or  so,  and  then  slopes  more  gently ; 
at  the  entrance  there  is  always  a  little  mound  of  sand, 
thrown  up  by  the  tortoise  during  its  tunnelling  exploits. 
The  end  of  the  gopher-tortoise's  burrow  is  a  roomy 
chamber  lined  with  branches  of  fir-trees  which  have  been 
dragged  in  for  food  and  warmth.  A  single  pair  of 
tortoises  inhabit  each  burrow,  and  they  subsist  on  the 
resin  from  the  fir-trees.  At  nesting-time  a  new  chamber 
is  formed  for  the  reception  of  the  eggs,  not  at  the  end  of 
the  burrow  as  might  have  been  expected,  but  near  the 
entrance. 

Large  numbers  of  these  tortoises  are  captured  by 
digging  holes  of  considerable  depth  just  outside  the 
entrances  to  their  burrows.  Into  these  holes  the  un- 
suspecting beasts  tumble  when  they  sally  forth  to  take 
their  walks  abroad.  There  is  nothing  very  remarkable 
about  the  burrows  of  the  gopher-tortoise,  but  we  have 
mentioned  them  because  the  burrowing  habit  is  peculiar 
among  these  creatures,  at  least  as  a  permanent  institution. 
Many  tortoises,  however,  hide  themselves  below  ground, 
there  the  better  to  enjoy  their  winter  sleep.  Selecting  some 
soft  ground,  towards  autumn,  operations  are  begun.  The 
tortoise,  as  may  be  imagined,  is  not  prone  to  hurry. 

229 


Reptiles 

Even  in  the  softest  ground  it  only  excavates  about  an 
inch  a  day,  and  its  method  of  working  is  peculiar. 
Instead  of  using  its  powerful  fore-feet,  as  might  be 
guessed,  it  simply  edges  its  way  by  a  series  of  side-to- 
side  movements,  till  the  soft  earth  covers  its  back. 

The  European  pond  tortoise  is  an  engineer  with  peculiar 
methods.  The  female  lays  her  eggs  below  ground,  and  in 
the  digging  of  a  hole  for  their  reception  she  displays 
considerable  ingenuity.  She  commences  by  moistening 
the  soil  with  water  for  the  purpose  of  rendering  it  soft 
and  easily  worked  ;  then  she  stiffens  her  pointed  tail  and, 
using  it  as  an  awl,  makes  a  hole  in  the  ground.  Next 
she  applies  her  hind  legs  to  the  work  and,  moving  them 
alternately,  scoops  up  the  soil  till  a  hole  is  formed  of 
such  a  depth  that  her  legs  can  reach  no  farther  ;  the 
excavated  soil  she  deposits  at  the  side  of  the  hole.  Her 
next  proceeding  is  to  deposit  her  eggs  in  the  cavity  she 
has  made;  no  jumble  of  eggs  will  meet  her  needs,  they 
are  all  carefully  separated  and  distributed  in  a  single 
layer  by  means  of  her  feet.  The  soil  is  replaced  over  the 
eggs  and  battened  down  by  the  mother  tortoise,  a  feat 
which  she  accomplishes  by  raising  her  body  as  high  as 
her  stumpy  legs  will  permit  and  letting  it  fall  upon  the 
loose  earth.  By  this  means  the  ground  is  stamped  firm 
and  flat.  Lastly,  to  allay  suspicion,  the  tortoise  scratches 
the  surface  of  the  soil  slightly  and,  having  done  so,  she 
departs  and  leaves  her  eggs  to  their  fate. 

The  giant  tortoise  is  anything  but  a  romantic-looking 
individual,  yet  even  he,  despite  his  cold  blood,  has  a 
winning  way  with  him  when  he  goes  courting.  He  walks 
with  slow  and  measured  gait  round  and  round  the  object 
of  his  affections,  stopping  frequently  so  as  to  face  the  side 
of  her  shell.  Then  he  raises  himself  on  high  and  battens 
the  under  side  of  his  shell  against  the  upper  surface  of 
hers  a  dozen  times  or  more,  giving  vent  to  deep  trumpet- 
ing calls  the  while.  This  is  called  courtship,  but  the 
resounding  thumps  are  like  the  blows  of  a  heavy  mallet 

230 


Reptiles 

or  sledge-hammer  and  look  far  more  ludicrous  than 
romantic. 

Looking  at  the  inert  crocodiles  in  their  tank  at  the  Zoo, 
or  even  beholding  them  floating  like  animate  logs  in  their 
native  rivers,  no  one  would  guess  that  they,  or  rather 
some  of  them,  are  expert  nest-builders.  Certain  female 
crocodiles,  it  is  true,  simply  dig  a  hole  in  the  sand,  deposit 
their  eggs  therein  and  cover  up  the  cavity.  Their  nests, 
however,  are  much  more  elaborate,  and  Mr  Dittmar  thus 
describes  one  he  discovered  on  the  banks  of  the  Savannah 
river :  "  The  nest  consisted  of  a  mound  of  water-soaked 
twigs,  dead  masses  of  the  hanging  moss  that  had  dropped 
from  the  trees  and  other  debris.  The  mound  was  about 
five  feet  in  diameter  and  two  feet  high.  It  contained 
thirty-eight  hard-shelled,  white  eggs  three  and  a  quarter 
inches  long  and  one  and  three  quarters  of  an  inch  in 
diameter.  The  eggs  were  collected  in  the  middle  of 
August  and  began  hatching  in  the  first  week  of  October. 
They  were  deposited  in  two  neat  layers  at  the  very  bottom 
of  the  mound.  As  we  dug  down  to  them  the  rotting 
vegetable  mass,  scooped  together  by  the  parent,  was  found 
to  be  producing  a  considerable  heat.  Of  the  parent  there 
was  no  sign  during  any  part  of  the  work  of  digging  out 
the  eggs  and  packing  the  material  composing  the  mound 
into  a  number  of  bags  to  be  shipped  north." 

"  The  American  alligator  is  one  of  the  few  crocodilians 
giving  voice  to  a  loud  sound — a  bellow  or  roar.  A  five- 
foot  specimen  emits  a  series  of  sounds  not  unlike  the 
'  mooing '  of  a  cow,  though  shorter  and  more  guttural. 
A  ten  or  twelve  foot  specimen  lets  out  a  rattling  bellow 
that  shakes  the  night  air  of  the  lagoons  and  may  be  heard 
for  a  mile.  When  so  performing,  the  males  emit  vapoury 
jets  of  musk  from  the  glands  on  the  chin.  This  saturates 
the  surrounding  humid  atmosphere,  then,  travelling  on 
an  indolent  air  current,  attracts  company  to  the  solitary 
bellower."  This  habit  of  attracting  the  opposite  sex  by 
means  of  perfume  is  by  no  means  peculiar  to  the  alligator. 

231 


Reptiles 

The  alligator  is  by  no  means  the  inert  creature  that  he 
appears.  As  he  lies,  motionless,  on  the  surface  of  a  South 
American  river,  some  favoured  fare,  maybe  in  the  form  of 
a  peccary,  will  probably  be  rash  enough  to  step  upon  his 
back.  In  an  instant  the  alligator  is  all  alert.  Lashing 
his  tail  vigorously,  the  unfortunate  peccary  is  shot  into  the 
air  and  good  luck  alone  will  save  it  from  being  precipitated 
into  the  cruel  jaws  of  the  hungry  crocodile. 

Equally  stirring  are  the  combats  which  sometimes  take 
place  between  the  alligators  and  giant  anacondas,  snakes 
which  are  equally  at  home  on  land  or  in  the  water.  The 
combatants  are  often  well  matched  and  the  struggles 
accordingly  prolonged.  The  anaconda  uses  every  wile  to 
obtain  a  purchase  with  his  tail  which  will  enable  him  to 
put  his  deadly  strangle-hold  upon  his  adversary.  The 
alligator,  on  his  part,  struggles  to  avoid  such  a  happening, 
for  he  seems  to  know  instinctively  that  the  anaconda 
could  and  would  crush  in  his  ribs. 

From  alligators  to  lizards  is  not  a  very  far  cry,  but  there 
is  an  interesting  point  about  many  lizards  that  does  not 
occur  amongst  any  alligators.  We  refer  to  their  very 
ingenious  method  of  escaping  from  their  enemies  by  shed- 
ding their  tails.  As  a  rule  a  lizard  runs  away  as  rapidly 
as  possible  from  danger,  and  danger  usually  arises  from 
some  creature  anxious  to  make  a  meal  of  the  lizard.  Now 
lizards  in  general  have  long  tails,  and  the  tail  is  the  most 
likely  part  to  be  seized  by  the  pursuer. 

We  have  frequently  caught  lizards,  or  tried  to  do  so, 
and  secured  no  more  tangible  prize  than  the  reptile's  tail. 
For  directly  this  organ  is  touched  the  lizard  can  shed  it 
without  pain  or  inconvenience,  just  as  a  thief  pursued  by 
a  constable  and  seized  by  his  coat  might  discard  the 
garment  and  make  good  his  escape.  The  abandoned  tail 
writhes  and  twists  and  squirms  in  uncanny  fashion  in  one's 
fingers,  then  a  wriggle  more  violent  than  the  rest  will  set  it 
free,  so  that  it  jumps  about  on  the  ground  like  some  weird 
live  thing.  Should  the  lizard's  pursuer  be  some  animal 

232 


AN  UNEXPECTED  MEAL 

The  peccary  stood  on  the  alligator's  tail,  mistaking  it  for  a  tree  trunk.  In  a  moment  the 
alligator  stretched  its  tail  round  like  a  bow  almost  to  its  side  ;  suddenly  it  let  go,  and  whilst 
the  peccary  thus  shot  up  was  still  in  mid-air,  it  swung  its  terrible  tail  again,  and  knocked  its 
now  insensible  prey  almost  into  its  own  'aws. 


Reptiles 

seeking  a  meal,  its  attention  is  diverted  by  this  quivering, 
cast-off  tail,  thereby  helping  the  startled  lizard  to  make 
good  its  escape. 

The  sight  of  a  fly  walking  upside  down  on  the  ceiling 
leaves  us  cold,  as  the  Americans  say,  because  it  is  a  sight 
to  which  we  are  well  accustomed  ;  a  lizard,  however,  per- 
forming the  same  feat  would  occasion  some  surprise,  yet 
it  is  often  done  by  the  geckos,  lizards  with  sucker-like 
fingers  and  toes.  Let  us  quote  a  naturalist's  description 
of  an  evening  in  the  tropics  :  "  For  the  uninitiated  tourist 
in  a  tropical  country  there  is  usually  an  unpleasant 
surprise — furnished  by  the  venturesome  geckos.  One 
generally  anticipates  an  awakening  of  insect  life  with  the 
coming  of  darkness,  and  he  is  not  disappointed.  Swarms 
of  winged  forms  are  attracted  to  his  lamp.  Great,  hard- 
shelled  beetles  enter  the  window  with  a  sonorous  hum 
like  from  a  distressed  buzz-saw,  dash  against  the  lamp 
chimney,  then  flounder  on  the  floor ;  moths  of  various 
sizes  dart  hither  and  thither  or  whirl  in  dizzy  gyrations 
about  the  light ;  a  colony  of  tiny,  ghost-like  things  dance 
up  and  down  or  are  instantly  consumed  in  the  flame  ; 
there  is  a  continuous  buzz  varying  in  its  cadence  and 
taxing  to  the  nerves  of  any  but  a  naturalist,  when,  with- 
out warning,  a  silent  grey  form  darts  obliquely  across  the 
wall,  jumps  from  the  vertical  surface  to  the  ceiling  over 
which  it  flies,  and  like  a  streak  of  light  continues  down 
the  opposite  wall ;  perhaps  for  a  moment  it  may  stop, 
exhibiting  a  body  as  long  as  that  of  a  small  rat,  glittering, 
cat-like  eyes  and  a  pulsating  throat.  To  the  nervous 
traveller,  already  annoyed  by  the  varied  hordes  of  insects' 
forms,  the  apparition  of  these  heavy  but  stealthy  forms 
darting  across  the  ceiling  over  his  head  is  weird  and 
startling.  An  attempt  at  capture  intensifies  the  impression, 
for  the  strange  thing  darts  over  the  walls  with  the  ease 
of  a  gigantic  fly.  Suddenly  it  may  scurry  for  the  window 
and  away,  but  if  the  light  continues  to  burn,  others  of  its 
kind  soon  appear.  Thus  is  life  in  the  tropics  associated 

233 


Reptiles 

with  visits  of  geckos  that  enter  homes  in  their  search  for 
insect  prey." 

We  can  vouch  for  the  rapidity  of  the  geckos'  movements. 
Time  and  again  we  have  seen  them  basking  in  the  sun  on 
walls  in  Morocco  and  have  attempted  to  catch  them,  but 
so  well  contrived  are  their  sucker  toes  that  no  human 
hand  could  ever  capture  them  as  they  scale  some 
vertical  wall  with  the  alacrity  of  a  monkey  climbing  a 
tree. 

Not  far  removed  from  the  geckos  in  the  genealogical 
tree  of  the  animal  kingdom  are  the  horned  lizards  which 
have  acquired  a  habit  that  was  long  considered  a  myth, 
but  one  that  has  now  been  vouched  for  by  certain  trust- 
worthy observers.  We  cannot  describe  the  habit  as  in- 
genious, but  it  is  so  extraordinary  that  we  must  not  over- 
look it.  When  angered,  some  species  of  horned  lizard 
squirt  a  minute  stream  of  blood  from  the  corners  of  their 
eyes.  Anger  puffs  them  up  to  such  an  extent  that  their 
eyes  literally  bulge  in  their  sockets  ;  then,  without  warn- 
ing, a  tiny  stream  of  blood,  as  fine  as  a  hair,  shoots  from 
their  eyes  and  travels  a  distance  of  at  least  five  feet. 
The  why  and  wherefore  of  this  strange  proceeding  has 
never  been  explained. 

The  gila  (pronounced  hee-la)  monster  is  notorious  as 
being  the  only  poisonous  lizard.  It  is  an  evil-looking, 
obese,  black  and  orange  mottled  beast,  capable  of  dis- 
playing extraordinary  vivacity  despite  its  sluggish 
appearance.  It  claims  attention  in  our  pages  by  reason 
of  its  curious  larder.  We  have  heard  of  animals  storing 
food  against  a  rainy  day,  both  above  and  below  ground, 
in  every  conceivable  hiding-place,  but  surely  the  gila 
monster's  storehouse  is  the  most  curious  of  all,  for  it  is 
situated  in  the  animal's  tail.  During  prosperous  times  the 
lizard  is  a  gross  feeder  and  its  tail  becomes  visibly  larger, 
till  it  reaches  abnormal  proportions.  Now  desert  food  is 
hard  to  find  at  times  and  the  gila  monster  with  its  fat  tail 
is  well  able  to  overcome  times  of  distress  and  want.  It 

234 


Reptiles 

can  exist  for  months  without  taking  a  morsel  of  food ;  it 
simply  draws  on  the  reserve  fat  in  its  tail. 

The  most  bizarre  of  all  lizards  are  the  chameleons.  They 
are  tree-dwellers  all  and  hopelessly  at  sea  on  the  ground, 
if  we  may  so  mix  our  metaphors.  The  chameleon  leads 
an  apparently  indolent  life ;  grasping  some  branch  firmly 
with  its  four-toed  feet  and  steadying  itself  with  its  long 
prehensile  tail,  it  is  the  embodiment  of  immobility  ex- 
cept for  its  bulging,  beady,  swivel  eyes.  Let  us  examine 
these  eyes  for  a  moment.  They  are  almost  uncanny  in 
their  movements  :  one  may  look  forward  whilst  its  partner 
glances  backward  ;  now  both  are  directed  straight  ahead  ; 
again,  one  surveys  the  sky  the  while  the  other  scans  the 
earth ;  they  move  as  independently  as  a  horse's  ears  and 
are  well  adapted  to  the  requirements  of  the  immobile 
chameleon,  for  they  enable  it  to  see  in  all  directions 
without  the  trouble  of  moving  its  position. 

The  only  time  that  the  chameleon  shows  any  signs  of 
activity  is  when  an  insect  settles  within  its  reach,  then  the 
whole  scene  changes  in  a  flash.  It  is  patent  that  at  long 
last  the  animal  is  conscious  of  his  surroundings  ;  maybe  he 
always  is  so,  but  he  rarely  gives  any  indication  of  it.  The 
swivel  eyes  are  directed  upon  the  prey  and  for  some 
moments  the  chameleon  appears  lost  in  contemplation ; 
in  reality  he  is  taking  the  measure  of  his  victim.  The 
reptile's  mouth  opens,  and,  with  a  rapidity  that  is 
astounding,  his  long,  wire-like  tongue  is  shot  out  with 
unerring  aim  and  the  luckless  insect  is  conveyed  to  the 
reptile's  mouth  on  the  sticky  end  of  his  tongue.  The 
lightning  flash  of  the  chameleon's  tongue  must  be  seen  to 
be  believed,  and  though  the  reptile  is  known  the  world 
over  for  his  colour  changes,  changes,  by  the  way,  which  are 
much  exaggerated,  his  method  of  capturing  active  insect 
prey  is  far  more  remarkable  than  his  change  of  hue. 

Snakes,  so  repulsive  to  most  people,  yet  so  attractive  to 
those  who  know  them  and  have  learned  their  habits,  next 
claim  our  attention.  Many  of  them  certainly  are  highly 

235 


Reptiles 

poisonous,  and  in  countries  like  India,  where  the  natives 
walk  barefooted,  for  the  most  part,  they  take  a  consider- 
able toll  of  human  life.  The  Times  of  iQth  September 
1906  stated  that  "  a  statistical  paper  on  India  issued  to- 
day shows  that  in  1904  there  were  killed  in  that  country 
by  snakes  and  wild  beasts  24,034  persons — 21,880  by 
snake  bites,  795  by  tigers,  399  by  leopards  and  the  rest  by 
other  animals.  The  number  of  cattle  killed  was  98,582. 

"  The  other  side  of  the  account  shows  that  65,146  snakes 
and  16,121  wild  animals  were  killed,  for  which  rewards  of 
£7313  were  paid." 

All  the  poisonous  snakes  carry  their  venom  in  sacs  at 
the  bases  of  hollow  fangs,  and  when  these  fangs  are 
plunged  into  any  substance,  preferably,  on  the  part  of  the 
snake,  into  the  flesh  of  some  animal,  the  sacs  are  emptied 
of  their  venom,  which  pours  into  the  wound  through  the 
hollow  teeth,  a  case  of  hypodermic  injection,  in  short,  and 
one  from  which  our  medical  men  took  their  cue. 

Though  all  snakes  exhibit  an  inordinate  degree  of 
cunning,  they  can  hardly  be  described  as  ingenious.  Some 
of  them,  it  is  true,  are  given  to  burrowing  in  sand,  but  their 
engineering  bent  is  not  so  highly  developed  as  it  is  among 
the  tortoises  even.  The  burrowing  snake  simply  sinks  its 
body  into  soft  sand  by  means  of  undulatory  movements. 

The  hog-nosed  snake  possesses  a  degree  of  ingenuity 
sufficient  to  earn  him  a  place  in  our  pages- — he  has  the 
unsnake-like  habit  of  feigning  death  when  alarmed.  Now 
the  hog-nosed  snake  is  perfectly  harmless,  a  fact  which 
does  not  prevent  it  from  pretending  to  be  very  ferocious 
when  in  danger,  in  the  hope,  evidently,  of  frightening  its 
enemies ;  should  these  tactics  fail,  the  snake  rolls  on  his 
back,  opening  his  mouth  and  rolling  his  head  from  side 
to  side,  till  his  jaws  are  covered  with  dust  or  earth,  then 
he  remains  utterly  limp  and  motionless.  He  will  stay 
thus  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  or  more ;  but,  should  the 
danger  pass,  the  reptile  lifts  his  head  and  surveys  his 
surroundings,  darts  out  his  tongue — an  organ,  by  the  way, 

236 


Reptiles 

with  which  snakes  hear,  and  one  in  no  way  connected 
with  their  venom,  as  is  popularly  supposed — then  he  rolls 
over  into  his  normal  position  and  makes  away  as  rapidly 
as  possible.  The  hog-nosed  snake  will  not  bite  even  if 
one's  finger  be  placed  in  his  mouth,  and  he  seeks  to 
frighten  his  enemies  by  a  show  of  ingenious  yet  perfectly 
harmless  bluff. 

Mr  Dittmar  relates  an  amusing  experience  he  had  with 
one  of  these  snakes.  "While  collecting  in  the  south," 
he  writes,  "  the  writer  had  an  amusing  experience  with 
the  negroes,  this  involving  the  hog-nosed  snake.  The 
negroes  regarded  the  species  as  exceptionally  poisonous. 
They  had  never  lingered  by  a  performing  specimen  long 
enough  to  discover  the  habit  of  playing  possum.  On  the 
way  to  the  Savannas,  across  a  cotton-field,  a  big  blow 
adder  was  found  crawling  along  a  sun-baked  furrow. 
The  writer's  coloured  guides  and  assistants  shouted  in 
terror,  urging  that  this  kind  of  snake  be  excluded  from 
the  collecting  bags  and  instantly  killed.  They  were 
asked  to  pause,  to  form  a  large  circle  and  witness  the 
writer's  powers  in  snake  hypnotism. 

"  The  writer  explained  he  could  slay  the  snake  by  a  few 
waves  of  his  hand,  without  touching  it.  Walking  up  to 
the  snake,  with  a  few  motions  of  the  hands  he  convinced 
the  creature  its  hostile  airs  were  of  no  use,  so  it  soon 
rolled  on  its  back,  becoming  apparently  lifeless.  A 
murmur  of  surprise  came  from  the  staring  circle.  The 
writer  insisted  that  the  '  dead '  snake  be  passed  from  one 
to  another  to  convince  his  assistants  of  his  powers.  With 
many  uneasy  motions,  nervous  laughter  and  shouting, 
the  snake  was  handed  around  by  the  tail.  Then  the 
circle  was  told  to  remain  perfectly  quiet  for  a  minute 
more,  to  witness  a  restoration  to  life.  This  provoked  a 
heated  argument  that  the  serpent  be  permitted  to  remain 
dead,  but  the  hypnotist  was  adamantine ;  he  wanted  a 
living  specimen  for  his  collection. 

"Placing  the  snake  upon  the  ground,  he  made  a  few 

237 


Reptiles 

eccentric  motions,  then,  removing  his  hands,  kept  perfectly 
quiet.  Thinking  danger  past,  the  reptile  rolled  over, 
starting  away.  It  was  caught  and  put  into  a  bag.  The 
writer's  idea  had  been  to  promote  respect  for  himself  in 
a  wild,  almost  lawless  region,  but  the  effect  was  too  pro- 
nounced. His  assistants  at  once  decided  his  powers  of 
black  art  were  suspiciously  dangerous.  They  dropped 
away,  one  by  one,  until  the  ludicrous  necessity  was 
presented  of  changing  the  location  of  collecting  in  order 
to  leave  a  bad  reputation  behind  and  secure  men  to 
carry  the  snake  bags." 

It  may  not  be  inopportune  here  to  give  a  short  account 
of  the  art  of  snake-charming.  Maybe  the  ingenuity  in 
this  case  is  rather  on  the  part  of  the  charmer  than  of  the 
charmed.  Be  that  as  it  may,  the  performance  possesses 
a  wellnigh  hypnotic  fascination  for  the  onlbokers.  We 
have  witnessed  the  performance  time  and  again  in  Africa, 
but  it  is  to  India  that  we  must  turn  for  the  greatest 
development  of  the  art  of  snake-charming ;  on  that 
account  we  make  no  excuse  for  quoting  the  words  of  an 
onlooker  at  a  Hindoo  performance : 

"  Under  the  trees  of  a  public  square,  the  idlers  gather 
about  a  solemn  Hindoo,  whose  shrill-toned  reed  has 
attracted  their  attention.  Sitting  cross-legged  before  two 
round,  flat  baskets,  he  begins  a  refrain  upon  his  flute. 
The  music  is  strange  and  crooning,  suggesting  something 
strange  to  follow.  With  a  bamboo  stick  he  presently 
removes  the  covers  of  the  baskets  and  several  strange 
apparitions  arise  into  view  from  a  mass  of  tangled  bodies 
within.  These  are  specimens  of  the  deadly  cobra-de- 
capello,  their  hoods  spread  widely.  While  the  reptiles' 
eyes  stare  with  glassy  monotony  at  the  Hindoo,  the 
spectacle  markings  upon  their  distended  necks  seem  to 
cast  ghastly  grimaces  upon  those  assembled  for  the  exhibi- 
tion. Seemingly  imbued  with  a  frenzy  at  the  appearance 
of  the  snakes,  the  performer  quickens  the  strains  upon 
his  flute.  His  body  sways  from  side  to  side  in  time  to 

238 


Reptiles 

the  music,  when  the  spectators  behold  the  dreaded  snakes 
are  alike  swaying  to  the  refrain.  The  celebrated  cobra 
dance  is  on. 

"  With  bated  breath  the  onlookers  witness  this  juggling 
with  the  serpents,  when  there  is  a  sudden  murmur  of 
horror.  Sinuously  gliding  from  one  of  the  baskets  is  a 
snake  of  oriental  hues  and  a  head  so  flat  and  cruel  that 
a  glance  would  instinctively  suggest  its  deadliness.  It  is 
a  *  tic-polonga,'  known  among  the  more  learned  as 
Russell's  viper,  a  reptile  with  a  fearful  reputation  as 
regards  the  destruction  of  human  life.  With  the  same 
undisturbed  expression  of  solemn  dignity,  the  Hindoo 
quickly  reaches  forward  and  grasps  this  object  by  the 
neck.  With  the  other  hand  he  produces  a  fluttering 
fowl.  Applying  the  snake's  mouth  to  the  squawking 
creature,  he  permits  the  reptile  to  do  the  rest. 

"  There  is  a  flash  of  cottony-white  jaws,  and  the  fowl  is 
cast  upon  the  pavement,  where  it  batters  its  wings  for  a 
moment,  then  lies  pulsating  and  dying.  Before  the 
snakes  have  been  again  enclosed  in  the  baskets  the  fowl 
is  dead.  In  silence  the  Hindoo  gesticulates  to  his 
observers  his  willingness  to  demonstrate  as  well  the  power 
of  his  cobras.  But  there  is  a  general  shaking  of  heads, 
the  jingling  of  a  few  coins  and  the  exhibition  is  over. 

"  To  most  of  us  comes  a  feeling  of  awe  and  fascination 
attending  the  performance  of  a  snake-charmer.  In  this 
instance  we  have  seen  a  man  associating  intimately  with 
two  species  of  snakes  that  have  increased  the  death-rate 
of  India  about  twenty  thousand  a  year.  The  performer, 
apparently,  had  perfect  control  over  the  reptiles.  Thus 
follows  the  question  :  Is  snake-charming  an  art,  and  if  so, 
how  is  it  acquired  ? 

"  The  greatest  requisite  of  the  snake-charmer  is  nerve  ; 
this  must  be  backed  by  a  thorough  knowledge  of  snakes. 
No  hypnotism  figures  in  the  business.  The  handling  of 
poisonous  snakes  is  a  reckless  performance.  Not  in- 
frequently the  snakes  are  'fixed'— that  is,  their  fangs 

239 


Reptiles 

have  been  extracted.  This  treatment  does  not  render 
them  entirely  harmless  ;  for  poison  flows  from  the  wounds 
left  by  the  extraction  of  the  venom-conducting  teeth, 
and  the  palate  and  teeth  of  the  lower  jaw  are  liable  to 
produce  lacerations  through  which  the  virus  may  join  the 
circulation.  But  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  the  snakes 
in  this  condition  are  not  so  liable  to  bite,  and  if  they  do 
there  is  considerably  less  danger. 

"  Well  does  the  Hindoo  know  that  if  his  cobras  become 
accustomed  to  handling  and  teasing,  they  will  dance  with 
less  energy ;  so  he  keeps  a  supply  of  fresh  and  undis- 
turbed serpents  on  hand.  The  cobra's  natural  attitude 
of  defence  is,  as  has  been  previously  explained  in  detail, 
a  rearing  posture  with  hood  spread  widely.  From  this 
position  it  follows  with  swaying  motions  every  motion  of 
its  aggressor.  The  Hindoo's  swaying  body  elicits  a  like 
motion  on  the  part  of  the  snake,  as  it  alters  its  position 
in  aiming  to  strike.  Thus  is  the  dance  explained.  The 
shrill  notes  of  the  reed  appeal  only  to  the  imagination  of 
the  spectators  and,  were  the  weird  intonations  to  cease, 
the  dance  would  continue  without  interruption  ;  for  snakes 
exhibit  absolutely  no  interest  in  music  of  any  kind,  an 
unfortunate  fact  for  the  writers  of  romantic  stories." 


240 


CHAPTER   XXII 

FROGS    AND    TOADS 

INGENUITY  amongst  the  frogs  and  toads  is  mainly 
directed  towards  the  upbringing  of  their  young.  Every- 
one has  seen  the  masses  of  frogs'  eggs,  known  as  spawn, 
floating  on  the  surface  of  stagnant  ponds  in  our  country 
districts.  This  habit  of  enclosing  the  eggs  in  a  jelly-like 
envelope  is  common  to  nearly  all  frogs.  Sometimes  the 
spawn  is  in  a  single  string,  resembling  a  rosary,  sometimes 
in  a  double  string ;  at  other  times  the  eggs  are  laid  singly 
but  still  covered  with  the  jelly,  and  there  are  many 
occasions  when  a  froth  resembling  white  of  egg  takes 
the  place  of  the  jelly.  In  the  case  of  a  few  individuals 
there  is  no  gelatinous  covering. 

One  newt  carries  its  eggs  about  with  it,  and  as  they  are 
large  and  stalked  they  resemble  a  number  of  toy  balloons 
on  strings,  in  miniature.  Another  goes  a  step  further  in 
the  nest-building  stage  ;  she  searches  about  for  a  suitable 
water  plant  and,  having  discovered  one,  she  holds  some 
of  the  leaves  together  in  a  bunch  with  her  legs  and 
deposits  an  egg  with  its  sticky  covering  in  the  bunch  of 
vegetation.  When  the  animal,  leaving  behind  a  single 
egg,  leaves  the  water  plant  there  remains  a  rough-and- 
ready  "nest,"  composed  of  a  gelatinous  mass  sticking 
the  leaves  together,  with  a  contained  egg.  The  number 
of  eggs  laid  by  various  kinds  of  frogs  and  their  allies 
varies  greatly;  the  species  which  mother  their  young 
lay  a  reasonable  number,  fifteen  or  so  at  a  time,  but  one 
species  has  been  observed  to  lay  28,000  eggs  in  ten 
hours. 

It  may  seem  peculiar  that  the  custom  of  enclosing  the 
eggs   in    a  jelly  should   be   so   universal ;   the   object   is 
Q  241 


Frogs  and  Toads 

probably  twofold — the  jelly  forms  a  food  for  the  young 
animals  when  they  have  consumed  all  the  food  in  the  egg, 
and  also  the  envelope  acts  as  a  protection  for  the  eggs. 
Frog  spawn  slips  readily  through  the  ringers  ;  by  the  same 
rule  it  is  not  easily  snapped  up  by  ducks  and  other 
creatures  anxious  to  make  a  meal  of  such  fare. 

The  Surinam  toad  is  one  of  the  most  curious  of  all  the 
amphibians,  a  name,  by  the  way,  which  does  not  accurately 
describe  our  example,  for  it  is  wholly  aquatic.  In  ordinary 
times  this  toad  is  remarkable  for  the  wart-like  growths 
which  cover  practically  the  whole  of  its  body.  At  pairing 
time,  which  occurs  during  the  rainy  season,  the  male  places 
the  eggs,  as  they  are  laid,  one  by  one  on  the  back  of 
the  female.  Each  egg  is  sticky  and  so  adheres  to  the 
spot  where  it  is  placed.  Then  a  very  remarkable  thing 
happens  :  the  eggs  gradually  sink  into  the  mother's  back, 
each  one  into  a  little  pit  which  is  covered  by  a  lid.  In 
time,  of  course,  the  eggs  hatch  and  each  little  lid  is  pushed 
up  and  a  young  toad  surveys  the  world  from  its  comfort- 
able resting-place  on  the  mother's  back.  Thus  the 
mother  toad  spends  part  of  her  life,  at  anyrate,  as  a  living 
nursery. 

This  habit  of  carrying  the  eggs  is  fairly  common 
amongst  the  amphibia  which  do  not  cover  their  eggs 
with  jelly,  but  it  is  not  always  the  mother  who  acts  as 
a  nurse.  A  Chilian  frog,  described  by  Darwin,  rivals  the  \ 
Surinam  toad  for  eccentricity  of  nursing  habits.  Unfortun- 
ately, little  is  known  of  its  life  history,  but  what  is  known 
is  sufficient  to  whet  the  appetite  of  any  naturalist  desirous 
of  more  information.  The  eggs  to  the  number  of  fifteen 
or  so  are  placed  in  the  mouth  of  the  father  frog.  When 
the  eggs  are  in  position  they  are  held  in  a  peculiar  sac 
which  grows  larger  and  larger  to  suit  the  needs  of  the 
growing  family,  till  it  extends  from  the  unfortunate 
animal's  throat  to  his  groin.  So  encumbered  does  the 
father  frog  become  that  all  his  internal  organs  are 
misplaced  to  make  room  for  his  young.  Within  the  sac 

242 


Frogs  and  Toads 

the  eggs  hatch,  the  tadpoles  go  through  their  develop- 
ment and  the  young  frogs  come  into  the  world  at  a  stage 
at  which  they  can  look  after  themselves.  As  we  have 
mentioned,  much  light  remains  to  be  shed  upon  the  habits 
of  this  frog ;  no  one  yet  knows  how  the  eggs  find  their 
way  into  the  mouth  of  the  father  frog. 

Another  frog  from  Southern  Brazil  has  very  curious 
nesting  habits.  As  with  most  other  frogs,  its  tadpoles  live 
in  water,  yet  the  eggs  are  never  laid  in  that  element.  The 
mother  frog,  when  about  to  lay  her  eggs,  displays  consider- 
able ingenuity  in  selecting  a  suitable  spot.  She  ascends 
a  tree  near  some  stagnant  pool,  a  tree  whose  branches 
overhang  the  water ;  she  climbs  to  one  of  the  outer 
branches  and  on  to  what  she  deems  a  suitable  leaf.  Then, 
beginning  at  the  tip,  she  clasps  the  edges  of  the  leaf  with 
her  hand-like  feet  and  bends  them  over  towards  one 
another  and,  at  the  same  time,  deposits  an  egg  within 
the  rolled  leaf.  Her  eggs  are  covered  with  jelly  which 
not  only  acts  as  a  protecting  envelope  but  sticks  the  leaf 
edges  together.  Travelling  from  tip  to  base  of  the  leaf, 
folding  it  and  laying  jelly-covered  eggs  all  the  time,  she 
eventually  abandons  the  leaf  as  a  cone-shaped  envelope 
containing  a  number  of  eggs.  When  the  eggs  hatch, 
what  could  be  more  simple  than  for  the  tadpoles  to  fall 
into  the  water  below,  and  this  is  what  they  do. 

The  clumsily  named  midwife  toad  is  another  amphibian 
where  the  male  does  his  duty  in  the  rearing  of  the  family. 
This  toad  is  very  common  in  certain  parts  of  the  continent 
of  Europe,  particularly  in  Spain  and  Portugal.  The  male 
spends  most  of  his  time  in  a  comfortable  dug-out,  in 
a  crevice  in  some  wall,  beneath  some  shelving  stone  or 
even  in  a  hole  appropriated  from  a  mouse.  The  female 
lays  her  eggs  in  double  rosary-like  strings  and,  after  they 
are  deposited,  the  male  obligingly  draws  the  egg  masses 
over  his  hind  legs,  much  as  a  mere  man  pulls  on  his 
unmentionables,  so  that  the  jelly-covered  eggs  encircle  his 
waist.  Then  he  goes  back  to  his  dug-out  and  remains  in 

243 


Frogs  and  Toads 

hiding  during  the  day  ;  by  night  he  sallies  forth  with  a  dual 
object,  to  seek  food  for  himself  and  to  moisten  the  eggs, 
either  in  the  dew  or  in  a  nearby  pond.  For  three  weeks 
he  is  sorely  hampered  by  his  burden,  a  fact  which  does 
not  prevent  him  from  taking  upon  himself  a  second  batch 
of  eggs  should  occasion  arise.  At  the  end  of  the  third 
week  he  betakes  himself  to  water,  that  the  young  tadpoles, 
as  they  hatch,  may  find  themselves  in  their  natural 
element. 

Before  considering  the  architectural  capabilities  of  the 
amphibia,  let  us  give  a  moment  to  the  peculiar  antics  of 
the  fire-bellied  toad.  As  is  well  known,  very  many,  the 
majority  in  fact,  of  brightly  coloured  animals  are  distaste- 
ful to  eat.  Dozens  of  examples  may  easily  be  called  to 
mind  :  robins  and  blister-beetles  are  two  of  the  number, 
and  the  fire-bellied  toad  is  another.  No  animal  will  ever 
touch  the  little  creature  if  it  knows  what  it  is  about ;  but 
there  comes  the  rub,  for  the  vivid  colours  of  this  frog,  in  the 
shape  of  a  scarlet  waistcoat,  are  hidden  from  view  when 
the  frog  is  in  its  normal  position.  Its  back  is  very  similar 
in  colour  to  that  of  any  other  toad.  Well,  when  this 
little  toad  is  in  danger,  what  does  he  do?  Roll  on  his 
back  and  show  his  red  waistcoat  ?  Nothing  so  crude.  He 
bends  his  head  and  the  hinder  part  of  his  body  backwards 
so  as  to  show  as  much  as  possible  of  his  under  side  ;  further- 
more, like  the  true  contortionist  he  is,  he  so  twists  hte 
arms  and  legs  that  their  palms  and  soles,  which  are  also 
red,  are  facing  upwards.  In  this  strained  and  ludicrous 
position  he  remains  absolutely  motionless  till  the  danger 
be  past. 

Of  the  burrowing  amphibia  the  Central  European  spade- 
foot  toad  is  the  best  known.  His  front  feet  are  so 
modified  and  armed  with  a  hard,  horny  sheath  that  they 
form  excellent  spades.  Although  quite  common,  it  is 
rarely  seen,  owing  to  the  fact  that  it  only  comes  from  its 
burrow  by  night  and  is  completely  hidden  by  day. 
Frequenting  sandy  places,  it  digs  deep  burrows,  which, 

244 


Frogs  and  Toads 

owing  to  the  nature  of  the  soil,  rapidly  become  filled  in, 
so  that  no  trace  of  the  toad  can  be  seen.  In  the  day-time 
one  might  walk  over  ground  literally  riddled  with  the 
burrows  of  these  toads  without  being  aware  of  their 
presence.  Should  a  toad  be  caught,  however,  he  will 
utter  a  piercing  little  shriek  and  cover  one's  hand  with 
a  slimy  substance  smelling  strongly  of  garlic,  a  proceeding 
which  has  earned  this  creature  the  name  of  garlic  toad 
in  some  places. 

Certain  South  American  frogs  construct  little  mud 
nests  in  the  neighbourhood  of  ponds,  in  which  they  may 
deposit  their  eggs.  These  structures,  which  vary  in  size 
from  that  of  a  tea-cup  to  a  foot  or  so  in  diameter,  are  in 
reality  little  mud-lined  ponds  cut  off  from  the  main  water 
supply,  to  afford  better  protection  for  the  eggs. 

More  ingenious  is  the  nest  of  the  Brazilian  tree-frog, 
known  as  the  smith,  on  account  of  its  vocal  powers,  and 
we  cannot  do  better  than  describe  its  activities  in  the 
words  of  Dr  Goeldi,  its  discoverer.  "  The  smith,"  he  says, 
"  is  common  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Rio  de  Janeiro,  more 
frequently  still  in  the  mountain  regions  of  the  Serra  dos 
Orgaos  than  in  the  hot  lowland,  its  voice  is  one  of  the 
most  characteristic  sounds  to  be  heard  in  tropical  South 
America.  Fancy  the  noise  of  a  mallet  slowly  and  regu- 
larly beaten  upon  a  copper  plate,  and  you  will  have  a 
pretty  good  idea  of  the  concert,  given  generally  by  several 
individuals  at  the  same  time,  and  with  slight  variations 
in  tone  and  intensity.  When  you  approach  the  spot 
where  the  tree-frog  sits,  the  sound  ceases.  But  keep 
quiet  and  it  will  be  resumed  after  a  few  moments.  You 
will  discover  the  frog  on  a  grass  stem,  on  a  leaf  of  a  low 
bush  or  in  the  mud.  Seize  it  quickly,  for  it  is  a  most 
wonderful  jumper,  and  it  will  utter  a  loud  and  shrill,  most 
startling  cry,  somewhat  similar  to  that  of  a  wounded 
cat." 

Of  its  tadpole  nurseries  Dr  Goeldi  writes :  "  We  soon 
saw  a  mass  of  mud  rising  to  the  surface  carried  by  a  tree- 

245 


Frogs  and  Toads 

frog,  of  which  no  more  than  two  hands  emerged.  Diving 
again  after  a  moment's  time,  the  frog  brought  up  a  second 
mass  of  mud,  near  the  first.  This  was  repeated  many 
times,  the  result  being  the  gradual  erection  of  a  circular 
wall.  From  time  to  time  the  builder's  head  and  front 
part  of  its  body  appeared  suddenly  with  a  load  of  mud 
on  some  opposite  part.  But  what  astonished  us  in  the 
highest  degree  was  the  manner  in  which  it  used  its  hands 
for  smoothing  the  inside  of  the  mud  wall,  as  would  a 
mason  with  his  trowel.  When  the  height  of  the  wall 
ruled  about  four  inches  the  frog  was  obliged  to  get  out 
of  the  water.  The  parapet  of  the  wall  received  the  same 
careful  smoothing,  but  the  outside  was  neglected.  The 
levelling  of  the  bottom  was  obtained  by  the  action  of  the 
lower  surface  (stomach  and  throat  principally)  together 
with  that  of  the  hands." 

The  construction  of  a  nursery  occupies  one  or  two 
nights,  and  the  operation  might  be  hastened  did  the  male 
lend  a  helping  hand.  After  the  mother  frog  has  deposited 
her  eggs  within  the  walls  of  the  nest,  both  parents  remain 
in  the  vicinity  to  see  that  all  goes  well ;  sometimes, 
however,  tropical  rains  destroy  the  structure  and  then 
the  tadpoles  are  released  before  they  are  old  enough  to 
face  the  world  alone. 


,;.  ,  FISHES 

As  fishes  and  amphibia  are  so  commonly  associated  in 
our  streams  and  ponds,  we  will  group  them  together  here. 
From  man's  point  of  view  the  fishes  are  of  the  utmost 
importance  ;  they  form  one  of  our  greatest  sources  of  food, 
but  their  habits  are  not  of  a  nature  to  impress  the  man 
in  the  street.  For  the  most  part  fish  ingenuity  is  confined 
to  nest-building  and,  though  few  of  them  construct  nests, 
those  that  do  so  exhibit  a*  considerable  variety  in  their 
ideas  of  suitable  hiding-places  for  their  eggs.  The  salmon 
builds  one  of  the  most  primitive  nests  of  all  the  nest- 
building  fishes,  for  it  excavates  a  mere  hollow  in  the 

246 


Frogs  and  Toads 

gravel  beds  of  some  clear  water  stream.     At  the  other 
extreme  are  the  elaborate  nests  of  the  sticklebacks. 

Two  rather  curious  facts  strike  the  naturalist  bent  on 
studying  the  nesting  habits  of  fishes :  the  fresh-water 
fishes  are  far  better  architects  and  builders  than  their 
sea-water  relatives  and  it  is  almost  invariably  the  male 
who  acts  as  nurse.  An  exception  to  the  latter  rule  is 
afforded  by  the  British  butter-fish,  a  somewhat  eel-like 
creature,  who  rolls  her  eggs  into  a  ball  by  coiling  her 
body  round  them  ;  the  male  and  female,  in  turn,  guard 
the  egg  mass  in  this  manner.  After  a  while,  apparently 
tiring  of  their  cares,  the  fishes  remove  their  eggs  from  the 
sandy  beds  where  they  have  lain  and  deposit  them,  in 
clumps,  in  the  holes  made  by  the  piddock,  a  common 
shell-fish  of  our  coasts  whose  activities  are  discussed  in 
another  chapter. 

The  little  gobies,  sand-coloured  denizens  of  marine 
pools,  go  a  step  further  in  their  ideas  of  house-building. 
They  select  a  shell — that  of  the  limpet  is  often  chosen,  or 
even  the  hard  covering  of  a  crab— and  turn  it  so  that  the 
hollow  of  whatever  building  material  they  have  decided 
upon  is  at  the  lower  side ;  in  other  words,  they  make  a 
tent  of  their  borrowed  home.  From  beneath  this  shelter 
they  hollow  out  the  sand  and  proceed  to  make  a  circular 
opening  at  one  side.  This  circular  opening  is  their  front 
door,  but,  being  made  of  sand,  it  is  liable  to  collapse  at 
any  minute.  The  father  goby,  however,  is  equal  to  the 
occasion  ;  he  swims  to  and  fro,  in  and  out  of  his  front  door, 
rubbing  his  scaly  sides  on  his  structure  as  he  does  so. 
One  might  think  that  this  performance  on  the  part  of  the 
male  fish  was  something  in  the  nature  of  an  exhibition  of 
delight  at  having  a  home  of  his  own  ;  in  reality  he  is 
covering  the  sand  around  the  door  with  a  slimy  secretion 
from  his  body.  This  secretion  holds  the  sand  particles 
together. 

The  nest  completed,  eggs  are  laid  on  the  inner  side  of 
the  roof  of  the  shelter.  The  male,  it  must  be  admitted 

247 


Frogs  and  Toads 

is  a  useful  member  of  goby  society ;  he  builds  the  nest, 
repairs  it  when  necessary,  guards  the  eggs  and  sees  to  it 
that  fresh  supplies  of  water  reach  them,  and  he  does  so 
in  this  manner :  near  his  front  door  he  takes  up  his 
position  and,  with  machine-like  regularity,  waves  his  fins 
so  that  a  continuous  current  of  water  passes  over  his 
eggs.  This  is  a  common  habit  with  many  fishes,  having 
as  its  object  the  prevention  of  stagnant  water  collecting 
round  the  eggs. 

The  bitterling  rises  superior  to  nest-building  ;  it  prefers 
a  living  incubator  for  its  eggs,  in  the  shape  of  the  common 
pond  mussel.  By  one  of  those  curious  coincidences 
which  are  so  common  in  nature  that  they  point  to  a  well- 
ordered  scheme  of  things,  the  breeding  seasons  of  the 
bitterling  and  pond  mussel  coincide.  For  this  reason 
they  are  able  to  help  one  another,  though  they  certainly 
do  not  do  so  wittingly. 

The  bitterling,  be  it  said,  lays  very  few  eggs.  Were  it 
as  prolific  as  the  ling,  which  deposits  twenty-eight  millions 
of  eggs  at  a  sitting,  it  would  be  hard  on  the  pond  mussel, 
as  we  shall  see. 

The  mother  bitterling  deposits  her  eggs  in  the  gaping 
valves  of  a  pond  mussel  shell ;  there  they  remain,  hatch 
and  pass  the  early  stages  of  their  development  into  fishes. 
At  the  time  the  mother  bitterling  comes  along  it  so 
happens  that  the  young  pond  mussels  are  seeking  some- 
one to  take  them  abroad  into  the  world ;  they  cannot  go 
themselves,  they  need  someone  to  carry  them.  What 
more  natural,  then,  than  that  they  should  cling  on  to  the 
mother  bitterling  and  be  carried  by  her  to  new  quarters  ? 
We  have  described  the  habits  of  these  young  pond 
mussels  elsewhere,  so  we  need  not  discuss  the  question 
here  ;  the  advantage  to  the  bitterling  and  pond  mussel  of 
attending  to  their  parental  duties  at  the  same  time  is 
obvious. 

The  wrasses,  noted  as  being  the  only  fishes  known  to 
go  to  sleep,  lying  on  their  sides  as  they  do  so,  build 

248 


FROG  "MASONS" 

One  of  the  largest  of  the  Brazilian  tree-frogs  builds  circular  mud  walls  in  the  shallow 
margins  of  ponds  to  protect  her  eggs  and  tadpoles.  When  this  curious  nest  is  completed 
both  parents  usually  remain  in  its  vicinity  and  appear  to  keep  an  eye  upon  it. 


Frogs  and  Toads 

moderately  elaborate  nests  in  hollows  of  marine  pools, 
using  shells,  corals,  seaweeds,  etc.,  in  their  construction. 

There  are  one  or  two  examples  of  fishes  which  shelter 
their  eggs  in  their  mouths  after  the  manner  of  some  toads. 
Another  fish,  after  his  spouse  has  laid  her  eggs,  blows  from 
his  mouth  a  frothy  substance,  which  causes  the  egg  mass 
to  float  upon  the  surface  of  the  water ;  this  floating  nest 
he  guards  assiduously  till  the  eggs  hatch. 

None  of  these  builders  can  compare  with  the  pugnacious 
sticklebacks,  which,  although  they  excel  in  nest-building, 
are  outdone  in  fighting  powers  by  a  little  Siamese  fish 
bred  by  the  natives  and  kept  in  captivity  with  the  special 
object  of  showing  its  fighting  powers.  So  engrossed  did 
the  Siamese  become  in  the  sport  of  fish  fighting  that, 
about  seventy  years  ago,  it  was  necessary  to  obtain  a 
licence  to  exhibit  such  fishes,  or  rather  their  combats.  The 
fighting  fish  of  Siam  were  the  source  of  very  considerable 
revenue  to  the  government. 

There  are  many  species  of  sticklebacks  and  they  are  all 
named  according  to  the  number  of  spines  they  carry  on 
their  backs.  The  fifteen-spined  stickleback  is  a  common 
marine  fish  and  his  three-spined  brother  is  common  in 
ponds.  A  remarkable  fact  about  the  three-spined  species 
is  that  it  may  be  transferred  suddenly  from  fresh  to  salt 
water  without  suffering  the  slightest  inconvenience. 

Certain  fishes,  the  salmon  and  eel  to  wit,  can  also  live 
in  fresh  or  salt  water,  but  the  change  from  one  to  the 
other  must  be  gradual  or  the  fish  will  suffer.  The  stickle- 
back has  only  one  tool  for  the  construction  of  his  elaborate 
nest,  and  that  tool  is  his  mouth.  His  first  care  is  to  fix 
on  a  suitable  spot  for  his  nest,  and  having  done  so,  the 
water  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood  becomes  his  own 
property  ;  no  aliens  may  come  within  its  bounds  or  they 
will  be  compelled  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  the  plucky  little 
fish's  spines.  And  they  form  an  armament  by  no  means 
to  be  despised.  At  rest  they  lie  almost  flat  on  his  back ; 
when  he  is  alarmed  the  spines  are  erected  like  bristles  on 

349 


Frogs  and  Toads 

a  dog's  back.  What  is  the  object  of  the  stickleback's 
ingenuity?  Why  should  he  trouble  to  build  such  an 
elaborate  nest?  Well,  the  greatest  enemies  of  stickle- 
backs are  other  sticklebacks,  and  his  nest  is  necessary  in 
order  to  protect  his  wife's  eggs  from  enemies,  particularly 
those  of  his  own  kind. 

If  a  few  stickleback  eggs  be  taken  from  a  nest  and 
thrown  into  a  stream  frequented  by  these  fish  "stickle- 
backs rush  at  them  from  all  sides  and  fight  for  them  like 
boys  scrambling  for  halfpence."  The  male  expends  con- 
siderable care  and  time  in  the  construction  of  his  nest ; 
he  selects  his  material  to  suit  the  locality,  everything, 
in  fact,  is  done  to  render  the  nest  as  inconspicuous  as 
possible.  The  floor  of  the  nest  is  first  constructed.  Pieces 
of  grass  or  water  weed  are  brought  from  afar  and  laid 
down  with  the  utmost  care  on  the  bed  of  the  stream. 
Piece  by  piece  they  are  placed  in  position,  not  at  hap- 
hazard, but  interlacing  with  one  another  so  as  to  form  a 
smooth  fabric. 

When  his  weaving  is  finished  the  father  fish  gives  off  a 
sticky  substance  from  his  kidneys  which  sticks  the  woven 
plants  together;  then  he  places  little  pebbles  upon  the 
structure  to  prevent  it  from  rising  to  the  surface  of  the 
stream.  Next  he  turns  his  attention  to  the  sides  of  his 
nest  and,  little  by  little,  builds  up  an  arch  over  his  closely 
woven  carpet.  The  completed  nest  somewhat  resembles 
a  lady's  muff,  except  that  the  opening  on  one  side  is 
smaller  than  it  is  on  the  other.  Beautifully  smooth  and 
well  finished  inside,  it  is  rough  and  unkempt  -  looking 
without.  Having  completed  his  early  labours,  the  stickle- 
back assumes  his  wedding  attire  of  emerald-green,  decked 
with  bright  pink,  and  sallies  forth  to  find  a  mate.  By 
dint  of  much  persuasion  he  induces  a  female  stickleback 
to  deposit  her  tiny  yellow  eggs  inside  the  nest.  Over  the 
nest  he  now  keeps  careful  guard,  waving  his  fins  steadily 
the  while,  to  keep  a  current  of  water  passing  through  the 
nest,  a  necessity  for  the  efficient  hatching  of  the  eggs. 

250 


Frogs  and  Toads 

From  time  to  time  he  looks  to  see  that  all  is  well,  but  woe 
betide  any  intruder  who  tries  to  enter  his  domain  ;  retri- 
bution will  be  levied,  and  quickly.  In  due  course  the 
yellow  eggs  turn  brown,  a  sign  that  the  young  sticklebacks 
will  soon  appear.  When  they  do  so,  they,  being  like  all 
other  children,  are  anxious  to  see  the  world,  and  then  the 
real  cares  of  the  father  stickleback  begin,  for  he  is  kept 
very  busily  employed  driving  them  back  to  the  safety  of 
the  nest  till  such  time  as  they  are  able  to  fend  for 
themselves. 

The  habits  of  the  fifteen-spined  stickleback  are  very 
similar.  His  nest  is  built  of  seaweed,  interwoven  by 
threads  of  a  substance  given  off  from  his  own  body,  and 
suspended  from  a  frond  of  a  larger  seaweed  growing  in 
some  sheltered  pool.  The  eggs  of  this  fish  are  as  large 
as  those  of  the  fresh-water  stickleback  were  small ;  in  fact 
few  fishes  lay  larger  eggs  in  comparison  to  their  size. 

A  very  remarkable  adaptation  for  securing  the  safety 
of  its  eggs  has  been  described  in  a  small  fresh-water  fish 
from  New  Guinea.  The  eggs  are  surrounded  by  coiled 
filaments,  closely  wound,  like  the  india-rubber  thread  in 
the  core  of  a  modern  golf-ball.  When  they  are  laid,  the 
filaments  uncoil  automatically,  and  the  eggs  are  bound 
together  in  a  double  bunch,  like  a  double  bunch  of  onions. 
At  the  same  time  on  the  skull  of  the  male  fish  there  is  a 
small  bony  process,  like  a  bent  finger,  growing  forwards 
and  downwards.  Just  before  the  hook  process  becomes 
an  "  eye,"  the  double  bunch  of  eggs  is  in  some  way  or 
other  slipped  in ;  as  the  "  eye "  is  completed  it  is  fixed, 
and  the  male  goes  about  with  the  developing  eggs  on 
the  top  of  his  head.  This  case  is  particularly  interesting 
because  the  two  adaptations,  which  so  perfectly  fit,  are, 
as  it  were,  very  far  apart — the  filaments  round  the  eggs 
and  the  bony  process  on  the  male's  head  ;  of  this  the  female 
shows  no  trace. 

The  sea-horse,  that  eccentric-looking,  upright-swimming 
little  individual  so  common  in  the  Mediterranean,  is  a 

251 


Frogs  and  Toads 


careful  male  nurse.  He  is  provided  with  a  spacious  pouch 
on  the  front  portion,  which  is  really  the  lower  portion  of 
his  body.  In  this  pouch  he  carries  the  eggs  of  his  wife 
wherever  he  goes.  The  young  hatch  in  the  father's  pouch, 
and  not  till  they  are  able  to  face  the  world  and  its  troubles 
is  he  relieved  of  his  living  burden. 

For  the  rest  there  is  little  to  add  concerning  the  ingenuity 
of  fishes,  unless  we  say  a  word  for  the  pilot-fish,  who  leads 
the  shark  to  his  food  and  receives  a  well-deserved  measure 
of  protection  in  return  for  his  services,  or  for  the  little 
shooting-fish,  which  captures  insects  on  which  it  feeds  by 
squirting  a  tiny  jet  of  water  at  them  as  they  settle  on 
leaves  by  the  side  of  his  home. 


252 


CHAPTER   XXIII 
CRABS,  LOBSTERS,  ETC. 

ONE  does  not  look  for  a  very  high  order  of  intelligence 
amongst  the  crustaceans,  as  the  crabs,  lobsters,  shrimps, 
barnacles  and  woodlice  are  called.  To  make  a  confession, 
they  seem  a  singularly  dull  lot,  yet  we  must  not  omit 
them.  Of  them  all,  perhaps  the  land  crabs  are  the  most 
ingenious.  Maybe  it  is  because  their  habitat  is  one  not 
usually  associated  with  such  creatures — they  seem  to  be 
somewhat  out  of  their  element  on  land.  Be  that  as  it  may, 
they  contrive  to  do  very  well  for  themselves  out  of  water. 

One  of  the  commonest  of  these  crabs  is  the  violet  land 
crab  of  Jamaica.  They  live  in  warrens  after  the  manner 
of  rabbits,  some  three  miles  from  the  sea.  During  the 
day  they  remain  in  their  burrows,  issuing  forth  at  night- 
fall to  feed.  They  are  easily  alarmed  and  then  scuttle 
back  to  their  burrows  with  all  speed — not  that  they  are 
averse  to  a  fight  should  the  need  arise.  During  these 
combats  they  exhibit  their  most  extraordinary  peculiarity. 
In  our  chapter  on  reptiles  we  mentioned  that  many 
lizards  escape  from  their  enemies  by  shedding  their  tails. 
The  violet  land  crab  has  developed  a  similar  trick.  Like 
the  sea  crabs,  they  are  armed  with  powerful  nipping  claws, 
and  with  these  they  seize  their  enemies.  When  a  claw 
has  taken  a  firm  grip,  the  crab  sheds  the  weapon,  and  it 
remains  still  gripping  tightly,  the  while  the  crab  makes 
good  its  escape. 

This  reckless  shedding  of  limbs  seems  somewhat  drastic 
to  our  way  of  thinking ;  as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  causes  the 
crab  little  inconvenience,  for  a  new  limb  grows  to  take 
the  place  of  the  departed  member  in  an  incredibly  short 
space  of  time.  During  the  early  summer  the  crabs  make 

253 


Crabs,   Lobsters,  etc. 

a  wholesale  peregrination  to  the  sea,  in  order  that  the 
females  may  deposit  their  eggs  therein  and  allow  the 
young  to  hatch  out.  Marvellous  stories  have  been  told  of 
these  trips  to  the  sea — stories  of  obstacles  surmounted  in 
the  most  astonishing  fashion.  One  writer  says :  "  The 
noise  of  their  march  is  compared  to  the  rattling  of  the 
armour  of  a  regiment  of  cuirassiers." 

At  the  end  of  the  summer  this  crab,  like  all  others, 
sheds  its  shell.  The  hard  armour  of  all  crustaceans  must 
of  necessity  be  changed  from  time  to  time,  in  order  that 
the  animal  may  grow.  When  the  shell  is  thrown  off  the 
crab  is  soft  and  liable  to  fall  a  prey  to  marauding  animals 
who  could  do  it  no  harm  when  encased  in  its  armour. 
The  land  crab  overcomes  the  difficulty  by  retiring  to  its 
burrow,  which  it  thoughtfully  stocks  with  grass  and  other 
herbage.  Then  it  closes  the  entrance  and  remains  in 
hiding  till  its  new  shell  has  hardened  and  it  is  able  to  face 
the  world  and  its  dangers  are  no  more. 

The  fiddler-crabs  are  well  adapted  to  life  on  land  and 
they  are  more  truly  terrestrial  than  the  violet  land  crabs. 
The  females  are  very  ordinary-looking  creatures  and  dwell 
in  burrows,  which  their  mates  guard  assiduously.  One 
claw  in  the  male  is  developed  to  an  extraordinary  degree 
and  is  moved  about  in  such  a  manner  as  to  give  a  most 
comical  appearance  to  its  owner.  The  scientific  name  of 
this  crab  means  "  laughable,"  by  the  way,  and  the  constant  x 
waving  of  its  strong  right  arm  has  also  earned  it  the  name 
of  "  fiddler."  These  well-developed  claws  are  supposed  to 
be  used  for  fighting  purposes,  but  that  they  do  no  great 
harm  is  the  opinion  of  most  observers. 

The  robber-crab  is  perhaps  the  most  notorious  of  all 
the  land  crustaceans.  A  native  of  the  islands  of  the 
Indian  Ocean,  he  is  a  hermit  crab,  though  he  does  not  live 
in  a  borrowed  shell.  This  is  the  crab,  by  the  way,  which 
is  able  to  ascend  trees.  Considerable  doubt  has  been  cast 
upon  this  assertion,  nevertheless  it  is  a  fact.  Photographs 
of  the  crab  in  the  act  of  ascending  sago  palms  have  been 

254 


Crabs,   Lobsters,  etc. 

brought  home  by  travellers.  The  robber  or  coconut 
crab,  as  he  is  sometimes  called,  is  enormously  powerful  for 
a  crab  and  a  plucky  fighter.  In  his  encounters,  curiously 
enough,  he  does  not  use  his  strong  pincers,  but  lunges 
violently  with  his  first  pair  of  legs,  which  are  armed  with 
extraordinarily  sharp  claws.  The  food  of  this  animal  is 
uncommon  in  the  extreme ;  coconuts  appear  to  be  the 
choicest  fare,  but  it  is  by  no  means  averse  to  the  pith  of 
the  screw  pines  and  sago  palms,  also  to  dead  rats,  birds 
and  other  carrion. 

One  species  is  said  to  climb  coconut-trees,  and  having 
selected  a  choice  nut,  to  throw  it  to  the  ground,  whither 
it  descends  to  remove  the  husk.  Having  done  so,  the 
animal  reascends  the  tree  with  the  denuded  nut  in  its 
claws,  and  throws  it  to  the  ground  from  a  height  in  order 
to  break  it,  which  it  usually  does  at  the  first  attempt. 
How  much  truth  there  may  be  in  the  story  we  are  not 
prepared  to  say ;  it  sounds  rather  too  far-fetched  to  be 
believed  ;  but  many  animal  stories  sound  equally  unbeliev- 
able till  we  learn  that  they  are  true. 

Of  another  species  Darwin  gives  a  good  account.  He 
says :  "  I  have  before  alluded  to  a  crab  which  lives  on 
coconuts  ;  it  is  very  common  on  all  parts  of  the  dry  land, 
and  grows  to  a  monstrous  size.  .  .  .  The  front  pair  of  legs 
terminate  in  very  strong  and  heavy  pincers,  and  the  last 
pair  are  fitted  with  others  weaker  and  much  narrower. 
It  would  at  first  be  thought  quite  impossible  for  a  crab  to 
open  a  strong  coconut  covered  with  the  husk,  but  Mr 
Liesk  assures  me  that  he  has  repeatedly  seen  this  effected. 
The  crab  begins  by  tearing  the  husk,  fibre  by  fibre,  and 
always  from  that  end  under  which  the  three  eye-holes  are 
situated.  When  this  is  completed,  the  crab  commences 
hammering  with  its  heavy  claws  on  one  of  the  eye-holes 
till  an  opening  is  made.  Then  turning  round  its  body, 
by  the  aid  of  its  posterior  and  narrow  pair  of  pincers,  it 
extracts  the  white  albuminous  substance.  I  think  this  is 
as  curious  a  case  of  instinct  as  ever  I  heard  of,  and  like- 

255 


Crabs,   Lobsters,    etc. 

wise  of  adaptation  in  structure  between  two  objects 
apparently  so  remote  from  each  other  in  the  scheme  of 
nature  as  a  crab  and  a  coconut-tree.  The  animal  is 
diurnal  in  its  habits,  but  every  night  it  is  said  to  pay 
a  visit  to  the  sea,  no  doubt  for  the  purpose  of  moistening 
its  gills.  The  young  are  likewise  hatched,  and  live  for 
some  time  on  the  coast.  These  crabs  inhabit  deep  burrows, 
which  they  hollow  out  beneath  the  roots  of  trees,  and 
there  they  accumulate  surprising  quantities  of  the  picked 
fibres  of  the  coconut  husk,  on  which  they  rest  as  on  a  bed. 
The  Malays  sometimes  take  advantage  of  this,  and  collect 
the  fibrous  mass  to  use  as  a  junk.  .  .  .  To  show  the 
wonderful  strength  of  the  front  pair  of  pincers,  I  may 
mention  that  Captain  Moresby  confined  one  in  a  strong 
tin  box,  the  lid  being  secured  by  wire ;  but  the  crab 
turned  down  the  edges  and  escaped.  In  turning  down 
the  edges,  it  actually  punched  many  small  holes  quite 
through  the  tin  !  " 

Later  observers,  however,  doubt  if  the  crab  uses  its  legs 
to  extract  the  contents  of  the  nut.  The  robber-crab  pro- 
vides for  a  rainy  day  by  storing  his  burrow  with  coconuts 
during  the  fruiting  season.  Another  of  these  land  hermit 
crabs,  like  its  water-frequenting  relatives,  shelters  its  soft 
body  within  a  shell  which  it  brings  from  the  sea-shore. 
Accidents  happen  even  in  crab  families  and  sometimes 
the  shells  are  broken  when  the  animal  is  far  inland  ;  then 
and  then  only  the  ingenious  animal  will  cover  itself  with 
a  broken  coconut  shell,  which  serves  as  a  substitute  for  its 
earlier  shelter. 

The  hermit  crabs  are  perhaps  the  most  curious  of  all 
the  creatures  of  the  sea-shore.  Unlike  the  edible  crabs, 
the  hinder  parts  of  these  animals  are  soft  and  need  some 
artificial  protection.  This  usually  takes  the  form  of  an 
empty  whelk  shell,  and  with  this  portable  home  on  its 
back  the  hermit  crab  leads  an  apparently  contented  life. 
When  danger  threatens  the  hermit  simply  retires  into  his 
borrowed  home  and  blocks  up  the  entrance  with  the  larger 

256 


ROBBER-CRABS 

These  powerful  land  crabs  inhabit  deep  burrows,  which  they  make  for  rtiemselves 
beneath  the  roots  of  trees.  They  climb  trees  and  eat  cocoa-nuts,  which  they  break 
open  by  hammering  upon  one  end  of  the  shell  with  their  huge  "pincers."  In  their 
burrows  they  accumulate  immense  quantities  of  cocoa-nut  fibre,  which  the  Malays 
sometimes  collect  to  use  as  junk. 


Crabs,  Lobsters,  etc. 

of  his  two  claws.  His  body  is  curved  to  fit  the  coils  of 
the  shell  and  is  so  amply  studded  with  file-like  structures 
that  by  swelling  his  body  against  the  sides  of  the  shell 
the  crab  can  avoid  all  risk  of  being  forcibly  dragged  from 
his  home. 

The  time  comes  sooner  or  later  when  the  hermit  crab 
grows  too  large  for  his  home ;  then  he  must  needs  seek 
another  abiding-place,  and  he  is  exceedingly  cautious  in 
doing  so.  He  looks  around  for  a  larger  shell  and,  having 
found  it,  probes  its  recesses  with  his  claws  to  make  certain 
that  it  has  no  other  occupant.  Being  satisfied  that  it  is 
empty,  he,  with  an  agility  that  is  surprising,  quits  his  old 
home  and  dives  into  the  hew  one.  But  all  the  while  he 
retains  his  hold  of  the  old  shell  and  in  case  of  mishap  he 
slips  back  into  it  as  quickly  as  he  had  left  it  a  moment 
earlier. 

Now  hermit  crabs  are  somewhat  hampered  in  their 
search  for  food  by  reason  of  their  being  compelled  to 
drag  a  heavy  dwelling  about  with  them  on  their  backs 
wherever  they  go,  so  some  of  the  more  ingenious  members 
of  the  family  have  devised  means  for  securing  food  on 
easy  terms.  A  common  British  hermit  crab  habitually 
carries  a  sea-anemone  on  its  shell.  The  anemone  affords 
some  protection  to  the  crab  by  concealing  it  from  view 
and  also  obtains  some  of  the  fragments  of  food  left  over 
by  the  crab.  But,  on  the  principle  that  two  heads  are 
better  than  one,  the  crab  also  picks  up  some  of  the  crumbs 
from  the  anemone's  table.  So  fond  is  the  hermit  crab 
of  its  friend  the  sea-anemone,  that  when  it  removes  to 
another  shell  it  takes  the  anemone  along  with  it  and 
places  it  in  position  on  the  wall  of  its  new  home.  At 
times,  however,  there  is  no  reason  for  the  hermit  to  change 
its  abode,  for  the  anemone,  having  dissolved  away  the 
whelk  shell,  forms  protection  and  covering  for  the  crab, 
enveloping  it  with  its  soft  flesh. 

This  association  of  crabs  with  sea-anemones  is  by  no 
means  uncommon,  and  the  most  curious  of  all  these  friend- 
R  257 


Crabs,   Lobsters,  etc. 

ships  is  that  of  a  little  tropical  crab  and  these  animals. 
This  very  ingenious  individual  lives  on  coral  reefs.  Its 
claws  are  too  feeble  to  enable  it  to  obtain  food,  and  food  is 
a  necessity  even  to  a  crab.  Nothing  daunted,  it  removes 
two  small  sea-anemones  from  their  rocky  homes  and  holds 
one  in  either  claw,  grasping  a  friendly  coral  the  while 
firmly  with  its  legs.  Now  the  anemones,  waving  their 
tentacles  in  the  water,  attract  food  thereto,  and  this  the 
wily  crab  removes  and  transfers  to  his  own  mouth  by 
means  of  his  first  pair  of  legs.  There  are  said  to  be  two 
sides  to  every  question,  but  on  which  side  the  unfortunate 
sea-anemones  find  themselves  is  not  quite  clear,  though 
it  must  be  admitted  that  they  do  not  seem  to  suffer  any 
ill  effects  from  their  unwonted  treatment ;  perhaps  the 
crab  permits  them  to  partake  of  some  of  the  food  which 
they  have  been  at  pains  to  capture. 

Artifice  has  been  brought  to  the  pitch  of  a  fine  art  by 
the  crab  family.  One  species  perambulates  the  floor  of 
ocean  pools  with  its  hind  legs  permanently  bent  over  its 
back.  In  the  claws  of  these  legs  it  holds  shells,  leaves 
and  the  like  with  the  object  of  hiding  its  movements. 
Another  species  plants  a  small  sponge  on  its  back  and 
holds  it  there  till  it  has  become  firmly  fixed  and  able  to 
grow  and  form  a  living  coat  for  the  crab.  Yet  another 
crab,  and  a  common  British  species,  has  a  back  studded 
with  small  hooks.  To  these  it  affixes  pieces  of  seaweed, 
should  it  dwell  amongst  such  vegetation,  or  particles  of 
sponge  if  sponge-beds  form  its  home.  In  time  these 
planted  organisms  take  root  and  form  a  permanent 
covering.  This  habit  of  the  spider-crabs,  as  they  are 
called,  may  serve  another  purpose  besides  protection. 
The  plants  form  veritable  portable  kitchen  gardens,  from 
which  their  owners  pluck  and  eat  tasty  morsels  from  time 
to  time. 

As  architects,  the  crustaceans  are  sadly  lax ;  some  of 
them  make  burrows,  as  we  have  noted,  but  they  display 
little  ingenuity  in  their  labours.  Many  crabs  do  little 

258 


Crabs,   Lobsters,  etc. 

more  in  the  way  of  burrowing  than  simply  to  sink  into 
the  sand  till  they  are  sufficiently  covered  to  be  out  of 
sight  of  their  enemies.  Of  these  species,  by  far  the  most 
interesting  is  the  masked  crab,  a  wedge-shaped  creature, 
well  adapted  for  pushing  its  way  beneath  soft  sand. 
More  interesting  than  the  general  contour  of  the  masked 
crab  is  the  form  of  its  antennae  ;  they  are  particularly 
long  and  stiff;  moreover,  each  antenna  bears  a  double  row 
of  bristles  on  its  inner  face.  When  the  antennae  are 
placed  together  side  by  side  the  four  rows  of  bristles  meet 
and,  to  all  intents,  the  two  antennae  form  a  long  tube. 

Now  this  tube  is  of  the  greatest  use  to  the  crab,  as 
it  lies  buried  in  the  sand.  The  two  antennae,  placed 
together,  are  pointed  upwards  towards  the  surface  of  the 
water,  and  thus  their  owner,  though  itself  in  sand-laden 
water,  is  enabled  to  draw  clear  water,  from  which  it  obtains 
air  to  breathe,  down  its  self-made  tube.  But  this  is  by 
no  means  the  only  use  of  the  antennae.  When  the  female 
crab  lays  her  eggs,  after  they  hatch  she  passes  the  young 
up  between  the  antennae  to  the  purer  layers  of  water 
above.  A  North  American  crayfish,  which  has  taken  to 
life  on  land,  burrows  deep  in  the  soil  till  it  reaches  the 
water  below  the  surface.  During  its  excavations  this 
creature  throws  up  substantial  chimneys  of  mud  at  the 
entrance  to  its  burrow,  with  what  object  is  not  known. 

As  the  creature  best  able  to  suit  the  colour  of  its  coat 
to  its  surroundings  most  people  would  award  the  palm 
to  the  chameleon.  It  may  not  be  generally  known  that 
a  quite  common  little  shrimp  of  our  sea  coasts  runs  the 
chameleon  very  close  in  this  respect.  This  curiously  shaped 
little  crustacean,  by  reason  of  its  build,  has  earned  the 
name  of  hump-backed  shrimp.  When  it  lurks  beneath 
brown  seaweed  it  is  brown  coloured  ;  amongst  green 
seaweed  its  coat  is  green  ;  red  seaweed  as  a  background 
causes  the  little  fellow  to  turn  red  in  sympathy.  By  night 
he  turns  decidedly  paler  in  colour,  whatever  his  hue  may 
have  been  at  departing  day. 

259 


Crabs,   Lobsters,  etc. 

A  very  interesting  experiment  has  been  carried  out 
with  the  hump-backed  shrimp.  As  we  have  just  mentioned, 
he  turns  pale  at  night ;  it  is  not  very  surprising,  therefore, 
to  find  that  if  he  be  taken  into  a  dark  room  he  rapidly 
blanches.  Now  comes  the  extraordinary  part  of  the 
experiment  —  by  keeping  the  shrimp  in  the  dark  for 
several  days  it  will  be  found  that  it  changes  from  a  light 
to  a  dark  shade  by  turns,  and,  furthermore,  these  alternate 
colour  changes  correspond  exactly  to  the  hours  of  night 
and  day.  That  is  to  say,  although  the  little  creature,  by 
reason  of  its  being  in  the  dark,  never  comes  under  the 
influence  of  changes  in  the  intensity  of  light,  it  still  retains 
its  old  habit  of  turning  pale  when  the  hours  of  night  are 
at  hand  and  becoming  darker  with  the  day. 


260 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

SPIDERS 

THE  spiders  run  the  ants,  bees,  wasps  and  other  ingenious 
creatures  pretty  close  in  the  matter  of  ingenuity.  Much 
of  the  ingenuity  displayed  by  insects  is  the  result  of  their 
living  social  lives  ;  their  labours  are  so  divided  and  organ- 
ised for  the  common  good  that  each  individual  becomes 
more  or  less  of  a  specialist.  It  is  somewhat  surprising 
that  spiders  should  be  so  ingenious,  for  they  are  not 
insects — the  fact  that  they  possess  four  pairs  of  legs 
instead  of  three  tells  us  as  much ;  they  are  close  relatives 
of  the  Crustacea,  amongst  whom  ingenuity  is  at  a  low  ebb. 
In  the  main,  spiders  may  be  classed  among  the  useful 
members  of  the  animal  kingdom.  They  are  beneficial  to 
mankind  in  that  they  kill  and  devour  enormous  quantities 
of  insects  which,  if  allowed  to  survive,  would  damage 
crops,  etc.  Fate  alone  has  saved  the  spider  from 
becoming  a  domesticated  animal  like  the  silkworm. 

All  the  spiders  possess  spinning  organs,  of  which  we 
shall  speak  presently,  though  they  do  not  all  make  use 
of  them,  Many  spiders  spin  two  kinds  of  silk,  the  web 
silk  and  the  cocoon  silk,  of  which  the  latter  is  by  far  the 
stronger,  and  it  was  thought  that  this  substance  could  be 
used  as  a  substitute  for  the  product  of  the  silkworm. 
Certain  articles  were  actually  woven  from  this  silk,  but 
it  proved  inferior  in  every  way  to  the  silk  of  the  silkworm. 
This,  however,  was  not  the  only  difficulty.  Silkworms  are 
harmless,  docile  creatures ;  spiders  are  pugnacious  and 
war-like,  even  cannibalistic,  so  that  it  was  found  almost 
impossible  to  keep  them  in  captivity,  a  necessary  pro- 
ceeding if  their  silk  was  to  be  used  commercially. 

In  habit  the  members  of  the  true  spider  family  are  very 

261 


Spiders 

diverse.  There  are  orb- weavers,  line-weavers  and  cobweb- 
weavers,  all  named  according  to  the  snares  they  spin. 
Then,  again,  there  a/e  wolf-spiders,  jumping,  trapdoor, 
bird-eating  and  crab  spiders.  In  addition,  there  are 
money-spinners  and  others. 

The  great  bird-eating  spiders  are  the  largest  members 
of  the  spider  family.  Great  hairy  brutes  possessed  of 
enormous  poison  fangs,  capable  of  killing  birds  and 
small  animals,  they  have  nevertheless  earned  a  title  which 
they  do  not  merit,  for  their  usual  food  consists  of  large 
insects. 

They  spin  no  webs  or  snares  of  any  kind,  but  dwell  in 
holes  in  the  ground  or  in  hollows  in  trees.  They  hunt  by 
night,  a  fact  which  renders  their  study  by  no  means  easy. 
The  little  that  is  known  of  these  creatures  shows  that  they 
are  long-lived,  even  in  captivity.  Their  senses  of  hearing 
and  smell  are  little  developed  ;  their  eight  eyes  do  not  ap- 
pear to  enable  them  to  do  more  than  distinguish  between 
light  and  shade. 

Their  sense  of  touch  appears  as  highly  developed  as 
in  the  bats.  It  is  most  striking  when  these  spiders  are 
courting.  "  When  the  male  is  seeking  the  female  he  seems 
quite  unaware  of  her  proximity  unless  he  accidentally 
brushes  up  against  her.  If  he  loses  contact  for  a  moment 
he  is  quite  at  sea  and  wanders  blindly  about,  turning^ 
perhaps,  to  the  left  when  the  least  motion  to  the  right 
would  bring  them  together  again.  .  .  .  He  seems  to  be 
aware  at  once  of  the  nature  of  the  object  which  touches 
him,  assuming  a  threatening  attitude  if  the  touch  is  hostile, 
or  pouncing  instantly  if  hungry  and  the  touch  is  that  of 
a  passing  insect.  If,  however,  the  insect  is  lucky  enough 
to  escape,  it  is  in  no  danger  of  pursuit." 

There  is  one  remarkable  trait  among  spiders.  It 
almost  invariably  the  case  that  the  female  is  larger  thai 
the  male.  As  frequently  it  happens  that  she  "  makes  no 
nice  discrimination  between  an  amorous  male  and  a  succu- 
lent insect."  Well,  the  males  of  some  of  these  bird-eating 

262 


Spiders 

spiders  are  more  or  less  prepared  for  a  hostile  reception 
on  the  part  of  their  wives  and  the  thighs  of  their  front 
legs  are  accordingly  armed  with  spurs,  with  which  to  hold 
back  and  render  powerless  the  female's  fangs. 

Specimens  of  the  spider  family  may  be  found  every- 
where. They  spin  their  orbs  on  our  garden  fences,  their 
cobwebs  in  our  rooms  ;  they  swim  in  our  ponds  or  construct 
rafts  upon  which  they  float  down  our  rivers  ;  they  excavate 
their  marvellous  tunnels,  closed  with  trapdoors,  though 
we  must  travel  to  sunnier  climes  to  see  these  creatures  at 
their  work  in  plenty,  despite  the  fact  that  there  is  a  British 
trapdoor-spider. 

In  general  their  silk  and  the  uses  they  make  thereof  is 
the  most  interesting  part  about  spiders.  Let  us  therefore  try 
to  discover  something  about  their  means  of  making  silk 
before  we  pass  to  the  discussion  of  the  uses  to  which  they 
apply  it.  The  method  of  producing  silk  exhibited  by  the 
silkworm  is  quite  different  to  its  method  of  production  in 
the  spiders.  In  both  cases  the  silk  issues  in  a  semi-liquid 
state  from  the  creature's  body  and  almost  instantaneously 
hardens  in  the  air,  and  there  ends  the  similarity  between 
the  two  cases. 

The  silk  is  given  off  by  the  silkworm  from  its  mouth ; 
in  the  spiders,  the  silk  comes  from  special  spinning  organs 
called  spinnerets,  situated  on  the  under  sides  of  their 
abdomens.  The  number  of  spinnerets  varies  in  the 
different  species  of  spider ;  in  some  cases,  again,  they  are 
hidden  from  view  when  the  spider  is  seen  from  above ; 
in  other  cases  they  project  from  the  tail  end  of  the  animal. 

It  is  obviously  impossible  to  describe  the  spinning 
organs  of  all  the  species  of  spider,  so  we  will  take  the 
common  garden-spider,  often  called  the  cross-spider,  by 
reason  of  the  white  cross  it  bears  on  its  back,  as  our 
example.  It  has  the  advantage  of  possessing  well- 
developed  and  numerous  spinnerets ;  moreover,  it  is 
common  and  therefore  easily  observed.  No  spider  is 
better  endowed  for  the  production  of  silk  than  the  garden- 

263 


Spiders 

spider.  As  we  have  remarked,  the  number  of  spinnerets 
varies,  but  in  the  case  of  this  spider  we  find  that  there  are 
three  pairs.  Some  spiders  possess  but  a  single  pair,  others 
are  rich  in  the  possession  of  four  pairs.  Each  spinneret 
consists  of  a  little  knob,  studded  at  its  tip  with  a  number 
of  fine  tubes  and  a  few  larger  tubes  called  spigots.  These 
tubes  and  spigots  are  merely  the  external  openings  of 
silk  glands,  of  which  there  are  about  six  hundred  in  the 
garden-spider.  Imagine,  in  the  relatively  small  spider's 
body,  six  hundred  little  factories  all  turning  out  silk  at 
top  speed  ! 

The  spinnerets  of  the  garden-spider  are  arranged  in 
three  groups.  The  pair  of  spinnerets  nearest  the  head 
each  bear  a  single  spigot,  the  middle  pair  bear  three 
spigots  each,  and  each  of  the  hind  pair  bears  five  spigots. 
To  these  must  be  added  at  least  a  hundred  of  the  smaller 
tubular  openings  in  each  spinneret,  giving  a  total  of 
eighteen  spigots  and  six  hundred  smaller  tubes  to  each 
spider.  Six  hundred  and  eighteen  little  openings  all  able 
to  turn  out  the  work  of  the  six  hundred  odd  silk  factories 
in  the  body  of  the  garden-spider !  Each  opening  is 
capable  of  giving  off  silk,  though  this  is  never  done  indis- 
criminately and  the  silk  from  the  different  openings  is  not 
all  of  the  same  quality. 

For  the  silk  of  the  foundation  lines  of  their  webs  strong 
threads  are  required  and  obtained  from  the  pair  of  spigots 
on  the  spinnerets  nearest  the  head.  When,  as  occasionally 
happens,  still  stronger  silk  is  required,  additional  threads 
are  supplied  by  a  single  spigot  on  either  of  the  middle 
spinnerets.  The  remaining  four  middle  spigots,  together 
with  four  of  the  spigots  on  the  hinder  spinnerets,  supply 
the  stronger  but  less  elastic  silk  which  is  used  in  the 
construction  of  cocoons  and  never  for  the  weaving  of 
snares.  This  leaves  us  with  six  hinder  spigots  to  be 
accounted  for  and  they,  again,  supply  silk  of  a  peculiar 
nature.  We  have  mentioned  that  silk  issues  in  a  semi- 
liquid  state  and  hardens  in  contact  with  the  air.  Here, 

264 


Spiders 

however,  we  must  qualify  our  statement.  The  silk  from 
these  hinder  spigots  remains  sticky  and  forms  the  gummy 
threads  in  the  snare,  upon  which  insects  are  actually 
held  as  a  bird  upon  bird-lime. 

It  is  in  the  construction  and  design  of  their  snares  that 
spiders  display  their  greatest  ingenuity.  Let  us,  therefore, 
consider  a  few  typical  snares,  beginning  with  the  well- 
known  orb  of  the  garden-spider.  In  outline  the  orb  is, 
usually,  roughly  circular,  but,  whatever  its  shape,  we 
notice  that  it  is  bounded  by  threads  obviously  stronger 
than  the  rest.  These  are  the  so-called  foundation  lines 
on  which  the  structure  is  built  up.  Running  to  the 
foundation  lines  there  are  a  number  of  radii  at  more 
or  less  equal  distances  apart.  Binding  the  radii  together 
there  is  a  silken  spiral,  covered  with  minute  sticky 
globules,  but,  towards  the  centre  of  the  orb,  the  radii 
are  joined  by  very  fine  non-sticky  threads,  forming  an 
irregular  spiral.  At  its  centre  is  the  hub,  either  an  empty 
space  or  a  number  of  scattered  threads. 

Let  us  try  to  find  a  spider  at  work,  that  we  may  see 
how  the  wonderful  orb  is  constructed.  This  is  by  no 
means  difficult,  for,  in  the  summer,  when  the  spiders  are 
most  active,  new  orbs  are  constructed  every  day.  The 
mother  spider  does  all  the  work  of  orb-weaving,  whilst 
the  male  lurks  in  the  vicinity  buoyed  up  by  the  hope  of 
favours  to  come  in  the  shape  of  prey  which  he  may  be 
able  to  snatch  from  his  spouse's  orb  during  some  moment 
of  her  unwatchfulness.  The  laying  down  of  the  founda- 
tion lines,  the  threads  upon  which  the  whole  safety  of 
the  orb  depends,  is  a  source  of  considerable  anxiety  to 
the  mother  spider.  Great  care  is  taken  in  the  selection 
of  suitable  positions  to  which  these  lines  may  be  affixed. 
She  presses  her  spinnerets  against  some  solid  support 
she  has  selected,  then  walks  away,  drawing  out  her  silken 
thread  as  she  goes,  holding  it  the  while  with  one  of  her 
hind  feet  so  that  it  may  not  catch  on  any  object  which 
may  lie  across  her  path. 

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ers 


Having  reached  the  limit  of  her  travels,  a  limit  which 
is  determined  by  the  discovery  of  a  suitable  object  to 
which  the  other  end  of  the  foundation  line  may  be 
attached,  she  stops  and  pulls  the  slack  thread  taut,  then 
fixes  it  by  applying  her  spinnerets  to  the  support.  In 
this  manner  she  proceeds  till  all  her  foundation  lines  are 
completed.  Should  they  require  further  strengthening,  she 
repeats  the  process,  spinning  more  silk  the  while.  Not 
till  these  lines  are  quite  strong  and  taut  is  the  rest  of 
the  work  put  in  hand. 

The  construction  of  the  radii  or  spokes  of  the  web  is 
the  spider's  next  care.  She  begins  operations  by  fixing 
a  thread  to  the  centre  of  the  upper  foundation  line  and 
dropping  with  it  to  the  lower  line,  where  it  is  fixed. 
From  the  centre  of  this  line  she  runs  spokes  in  all 
directions  to  the  bounding  foundation  lines.  She  works 
apparently  at  haphazard,  but  in  reality  the  spokes  are 
arranged  so  that  the  tension  on  the  foundation  lines  is 
fairly  uniform.  In  the  hub  of  the  web  the  little  worker 
then  spins  a  few  irregular  threads  to  afford  a  foothold 
and,  starting  from  this  point,  she  spins  a  spiral  line  of 
silk  which  she  attaches  to  each  of  the  spokes  in  turn. 
Creeping  from  spoke  to  spoke,  and  working  from  centre 
to  circumference,  the  construction  of  this  transient  struc- 
ture, which  is  merely  a  scaffold  for  future  operations,  is 
but  the  work  of  a  few  moments. 

Now  the  most  important  part  of  the  orb  remains  to  be 
laid  down,  the  spiral  of  sticky  threads  upon  which  the 
insects  are  caught.  Beginning  at  the  circumference,  the 
mother  spider  works  towards  the  centre,  stepping  carefully 
on  the  scaffold  threads  as  she  goes.  As  she  spins  her 
sticky  thread  she  affixes  it  carefully  to  each  spoke  in 
turn  ;  having  done  so,  she  pulls  at  it  with  her  foot  and 
then  suddenly  releases  it.  The  reason  for  this  strange 
proceeding  we  shall  learn  presently.  As  she  joins  each 
spoke  with  its  neighbour  by  means  of  a  sticky  thread, 
she  bites  away  the  connecting  threads  of  the  first-formed 

266 


Spiders 

spiral  which  has  served  its  temporary  purpose  as  a 
scaffold.  With  the  completion  of  the  spiral  of  sticky 
threads  little  more  remains  to  be  done.  The  spider  may 
elect  to  remain  in  the  hub  of  its  web,  there  to  await  its 
prey,  or  it  may  choose  to  hide  at  a  distance  for  the  same 
purpose ;  in  that  event  a  strand  of  silk  is  attached  to  the 
hub  and  drawn  out  to  the  spider's  hiding-place  to  serve 
as  a  telephone  line  along  which  the  message  may  pass 
to  the  spider  that  some  victim  awaits  its  attention. 

Let  us  return  for  a  moment  to  the  sticky  threads. 
When  examined  under  a  lens,  as  they  leave  the  spider's 
spinnerets  they  may  be  seen  to  be  somewhat  thicker  than 
the  other  threads  and  covered  with  a  sticky  substance. 
After  they  have  been  stretched,  examination  will  show 
that  they  are  studded  with  minute  globules  of  the  sticky 
substance,  all  of  the  same  size  and  all  equal  distances 
apart.  So  numerous  are  these  globules  that  it  has  been 
estimated  there  are  more  than  one  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  in  a  large  orb.  The  regular  arrangement  of 
these  globules  long  puzzled  scientists,  but  it  is  now  a  well- 
known  physical  phenomenon  that  if  an  elastic  band  be 
covered  equally  all  over  with  a  sticky,  semi-liquid  sub- 
stance and  then  stretched,  the  sticky  substance  will 
arrange  itself  in  equal  -  sized,  equally  -  spaced  globules. 
This  accounts  for  the  stretching  of  its  sticky  threads 
by  the  spider,  who  is  evidently  somewhat  of  a  physicist. 

Having  studied  the  making  of  a  spider's  orb,  let  us  see 
how  the  prey  is  captured.  Now  spiders  are  possessed  of 
poor  sight  and,  in  consequence,  they  rely  on  their  sense 
of  touch  for  the  capture  of  their  victims.  No  matter 
whether  the  spider  remains  on  the  hub  of  its  orb  or  at 
the  end  of  its  telephone  wire  some  distance  away,  its 
mode  of  procedure  is  the  same.  Immediately  some 
luckless  insect  precipitates  itself  against  the  sticky 
spiral  its  fate  is  sealed ;  struggles  are  useless,  in  fact 
more  than  useless,  for  they  only  cause  the  unfortunate 
creature  to  become  more  and  more  entangled  on  the 

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Spiders 

sticky  threads  and,  at  the  same  time,  give  the  signal 
which  the  spider  anxiously  awaits. 

The  vibrations  of  the  orb,  caused  by  the  victim's 
struggles,  intimate  to  the  spider  that  it  is  time  to  bestir 
herself.  She  rushes  from  her  resting-place  to  the  spot 
whence  the  vibrations  arise,  being  exceedingly  careful 
not  to  step  on  the  sticky  threads  herself,  for,  by  doing  so, 
she  might  be  enmeshed,  or  at  least  she  would  irretrievably 
damage  her  snare.  Having  come  up  with  her  victim,  she 
seizes  it  in  her  mouth  and,  bringing  her  two  hundred  odd 
foremost  spinning  tubes  into  play,  literally  trusses  her 
victim  in  a  broad  silken  band,  rolling  it  over  and  over 
with  her  mouth  and  fore-legs,  the  better  to  accomplish 
her  purpose.  When  thoroughly  trussed  and  quite  in- 
capable of  movement,  the  spider  removes  its  victim  to  a 
place  of  safety  and  sucks  out  its  life-blood  in  comfort. 
The  orb,  which  suffers  materially  in  the  tussle,  is  quickly 
repaired  or  a  new  one  constructed,  and  the  spider  is  again 
ready  to  play  the  part  of  the  villain  in  this  humble  drama. 

There  are  all  kinds  of  orb  webs  all  designed  to  achieve 
the  same  ends  though  in  different  ways.  A  North 
American  orb-weaver,  closely  related  to  our  garden-spider, 
decorates  its  orb  with  a  broad  band  of  woolly  silk  extend- 
ing from  one  edge  to  the  other ;  a  disc  of  the  same 
material  covers  the  hub.  This  apparently  purely  decorative 
addition  to  the  snare  has  its  uses.  The  weaver  of  this 
ornamental  orb  is  often  confronted  with  large  and  formid- 
able prey,  of  such  a  nature  that  rapid  trussing  is  essential 
if  the  victim  is  to  be  prevented  from  escaping.  Although 
the  operation  of  spinning  the  trussing  band  is  but  the 
work  of  a  few  moments,  the  utilisation  of  a  ready-made 
band  is  still  more  expeditious.  When  an  insect  of  an 
intractable  nature  becomes  entangled  in  this  spider's  orb, 
it  rushes  out,  seizes  the  woolly  band  and  without  delay 
winds  it  round  its  victim.  Should  the  prospective  victim 
prove  too  powerful,  the  spider,  having  no  stomach  for 
a  fight,  beats  a  hasty  retreat  to  the  back  of  its  woolly  orb, 

268 


Spiders 

there  to  await  the  passing  of  the  insect  upon  which  it  had 
hoped  to  make  a  meal. 

From  what  we  have  already  said,  it  is  evident  that, 
though  the  sticky  threads  of  the  spider's  orb  will  hold 
a  victim  for  a  limited  period,  it  is  always  essential  for  the 
spider  to  lose  no  time  in  trussing  its  prey.  We  have 
pointed  out,  too,  that  in  reaching  its  prey  the  spider  must 
never  touch  the  adhesive  portions  of  its  own  orb.  To 
overcome  this  difficulty,  one  of  our  common  spiders  leaves 
the  space  between  two  neighbouring  spokes  free  of  threads, 
except  for  a  silken  line  which  it  runs  from  the  hub  to  its 
hiding-place  near  by.  When  the  signal  runs  along  the 
trap-line,  as  this  single  thread  is  called,  the  spider  hurries 
from  its  hiding-place  and  rapidly  reaches  the  scene  of 
action  via  the  sector  devoid  of  sticky  threads. 

There  is  a  rare  British  orb-weaver  whose  snare  is  more 
ingenious  than  those  we  have  considered.  It  consists  of 
but  four  spokes  and  is  only  one-sixth  of  a  complete  orb ; 
in  outline  it  is  roughly  triangular.  At  the  point  from 
which  the  four  spokes  arise  the  spider  fixes  a  trap-line 
which  it  leads  to  and  affixes  upon  some  solid  support 
near  by.  Now  the  spider  converts  this  simple  orb  into  an 
ingenious  spring  trap ;  taking  up  its  position  on  the 
under  side  of  the  trap-line  with  its  head  towards  the  snare, 
the  animal  takes  a  firm  hold  of  the  line  with  its  hind  feet 
and  hauls  in  the  slack  with  its  fore-legs,  till  there  is  a  con- 
siderable length  of  trap-line  lying  between  its  fore  and 
hind  legs.  In  this  position  the  wily  spider  awaits  her 
prey.  Immediately  the  vibrations  of  the  trap-line  show 
that  something  is  caught  in  the  orb  the  spider  releases  its 
hold  with  its  fore-legs ;  the  snare,  no  longer  held  by  the 
tension  on  the  trap-line,  springs  forward  and  the  insect  is 
hopelessly  entrapped.  At  least  this  is  the  eventuality 
which  the  spider  desires,  but  should  failure  to  completely 
enmesh  the  victim  be  the  only  result,  the  spider  will 
spring  her  trap  again  and  again,  till  either  the  insect  is 
firmly  held  or  makes  good  its  escape. 

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Spiders 

We  must  leave  the  orb-weaver  with  the  mention  of  yet 
another  species  who  uses  her  orb  as  a  spring  trap.  Spin- 
ning an  orb  very  similar  to  that  of  the  garden-spider,  this 
individual  leads  a  trap-line  from  the  hub  to  some  solid 
support.  On  this  trap-line  she  takes  up  her  position  with 
her  head  away  from  her  orb ;  with  her  hind  feet  she 
grasps  the  hub  of  the  orb,  with  her  fore-feet  she  hauls  in 
the  trap-line,  till  the  centre  of  the  orb  is  drawn  back  to 
such  an  extent  that  it  resembles  an  umbrella  blown  inside 
out.  On  the  usual  signal  being  communicated  to  the 
spider,  she  leaves  hold  with  her  fore-feet,  the  snare  flies 
back  by  its  own  elasticity  and  the  spider  is  carried  to  the 
very  position  where  it  is  best  able  to  deal  with  its  victim, 
to  the  hub  of  the  orb. 

We  must  not  devote  much  of  our  limited  space  to  the 
work  of  the  cobweb-spiders,  so  common  in  our  houses,  and 
their  allies.  From  the  point  of  view  of  ingenuity,  they  are 
not  in  the  same  street  with  the  orb- weavers.  For  the  most 
part  their  webs  consist  of  irregularly  arranged,  non-sticky 
threads,  with  a  few  sticky  threads  intertwined  for  the 
purpose  of  capturing  insect  prey.  Closely  related  to  the 
cobweb-spider  is  the  common  labyrinth-spider  of  our 
gardens,  and  it  displays  a  little  more  ingenuity  than  its 
relative.  Its  snare  consists  of  a  horizontal,  slightly 
hollowed  sheet  of  dense  webbing  affixed  to  some  con- 
venient vegetation  ;  from  one  corner  of  the  web  there  runsv 
a  hollow  silken  tunnel,  at  the  end  of  which  the  spider 
awaits  her  prey. 

Here  we  may  mention  that  some  species  of  spider,  the 
lace-weavers,  display  a  certain  amount  of  decorative  ability 
in  their  work.  True,  a  pocket  lens  is  necessary  to  reveal  the 
beauty  of  their  webs,  but  that  does  not  alter  the  fact  that 
their  silk  is  of  exceeding  beauty.  Spinning  sheet-webs 
not  unlike  those  of  the  common  cobweb-spider,  inspection 
will  reveal  the  fact  that  a  number  of  wavy  bands  of  very 
fine  silk  run  through  the  structure.  These  lace-weavers, 
in  addition  to  spinnerets,  are  provided  with  an  apparatus 

270 


Spiders 

called  a  cribellum  for  spinning  this  decorative  silk.  The 
cribellum  is  a  plate,  situated  in  front  of  the  foremost  pair 
of  spinnerets  and  perforated  with  a  number  of  very  fine 
holes.  From  the  pores  of  the  cribellum  the  finest  of  silk 
issues  and,  as  it  does  so,  it  is  carded  and  distributed  into 
the  lace-like  bands  of  the  web,  by  means  of  fine  combs 
situated  on  either  hind  leg  of  the  female  spider. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  cobweb-spider  has  a  near 
relative  of  aquatic  habits,  the  common  water-spider. 
Frequenting  ponds  and  slow-running  streams  in  plenty, 
the  water-spider  and  its  ways  may  easily  be  observed. 
The  female  spins  a  web  as  beautiful  as  it  is  ingenious, 
a  web  designed  to  serve  as  her  boudoir  and  not  as  a  trap 
for  prey.  Having  found  a  suitable  water  weed,  the  mother 
spider  proceeds  to  spin  silken  threads  loosely  from  branch 
to  branch,  or  from  leaf  to  leaf.  These  threads  form  at 
once  foundation  and  guy  ropes  for  her  future  home,  for 
on  them  she  weaves  a  closely  woven  web  which  is  at  first 
horizontal.  Having  completed  her  building  operations, 
her  next  care  is  to  fill  her  home  with  air  ;  this  she  does  by 
ascending  to  the  surface  of  the  water,  when  air  is  entrapped 
about  her  hairy  body.  With  the  captive  bubble,  which  she 
often  encircles  with  her  hind  legs  for  greater  security,  she 
swims  below  her  web ;  then  with  her  hind  legs  she  kicks 
her  burden  free.  This  operation  she  repeats  again  and 
again,  with  the  result  that  the  web,  originally  flat,  becomes 
thimble-shaped  by  reason  of  the  contained  air. 

The  female  spider  hunts  her  prey  on  the  surface  of  the 
water  and,  having  made  a  capture,  returns  with  it  to  her 
thimble-shaped  home.  Towards  the  end  of  summer  the 
mother  spider's  boudoir  is  converted  into  a  nursery ;  the 
eggs  are  laid  in  the  upper  part  of  the  dwelling  and  a  wall 
is  built  across  the  shelter  to  prevent  the  inmates  from  fall- 
ing out.  Having  completed  her  labours,  the  mother  spider 
retreats  to  the  deeper  water,  where  she  spins  a  very  similar 
though  more  densely  woven  shelter  in  which  she  retires 
for  her  winter  rest.  When  the  young  water-spiders 

271 


Spiders 

emerge  they  do  not  at  first  spin  webs,  but  fill  empty  snail 
shells  with  water  and  float  in  them  to  the  surface  of  the 
pond. 

Another  common  British  water-spider  belongs  to  a 
different  family ;  he  is  one  of  the  wolf-spiders,  a  family 
with  many  interesting  habits.  Of  webs  they  spin  little 
or  not  at  all.  Unlike  the  web-spinners,  they  are  keen- 
sighted,  a  necessity,  for  they  hunt  their  prey.  The 
females  carry  their  eggs  about  with  them  in  a  little 
sac  till  the  young  are  ready  to  hatch,  and  the  young, 
in  turn,  spend  the  first  few  days  of  their  lives  in  clamber- 
ing over  their  mother's  back,  dropping  off  by  degrees 
and  starting  life  for  themselves.  The  raft-spider,  though 
capable  of  walking  on  the  surface  of  water,  needs  some 
resting-place  on  this  element,  so  he  collects  together  a 
few  dead  leaves,  spins  them  with  silk  into  a  miniature 
raft  and  crouches  atop  of  his  structure  to  await  passing 
prey  in  the  shape  of  water  insects.  From  time  to  time 
he  will  leave  his  raft  to  make  a  capture  and  will  return 
thereto  for  his  meal.  Occasionally  he  goes  beneath  the 
surface  after  some  tasty  morsel ;  in  doing  so  he  does  not 
swim,  but  creeps  down  some  water  weed. 

No  account  of  the  ways  of  spiders  would  be  complete 
without  a  word  concerning  the  species  which  construct 
trapdoors.  Though  common  throughout  the  Medi- 
terranean region,  their  nests  are  never  easy  to  find,  so|f 
skilfully  are  they  hidden.  In  its  usual  form  the  nest  of 
the  trapdoor-spider  consists  of  a  simple,  straight,  vertical 
burrow  in  the  ground,  a  little  wider  than  a  lead  pencil 
when  first  made,  but  enlarged  with  the  growth  of  the 
inmate.  A  layer  of  coarse  silk  lines  the  burrow  and 
prevents  the  earth  from  falling  into  the  nest.  The  actual 
lining  of  the  nest  is  composed  of  fine,  smooth,  lustrous 
silk.  At  its  upper,  open  end  the  burrow  is  fitted  with  a 
lid,  which  fits  its  mouth  as  accurately  as  a  well-made 
glass  stopper  fits  the  neck  of  a  bottle.  The  edges  of  the 
lid  are  bevelled,  so  that  it  falls  into  close  contact  with  the 

272 


Spiders 

slightly  funnel-shaped  mouth  of  the  burrow  ;  at  one  side 
a  strong  silken  hinge  completes  the  lid. 

When  the  young  trapdoor-spider  first  builds  its  under- 
ground home  it  covers  the  external  opening  with  a  thin, 
wafer-like  layer  of  silk  and  soil.  As  it  grows  it  enlarges 
its  burrow  and  at  the  same  time  increases  the  dimensions 
of  its  lid  by  adding  alternate  layers  of  silk  and  soil.  The 
upper  surface  of  the  lid  it  always  covers  with  the  material 
of  the  immediate  neighbourhood,  be  it  shingle  or  moss, 
sand  or  grass,  so  that  detection  of  its  haunt  may  be 
rendered  difficult.  All  the  work  of  digging  is  performed 
by  the  spider's  mouth ;  particle  by  particle  the  soil 
fragments  are  taken  up  in  the  spider's  mouth  and  re- 
moved to  a  distance.  Everything  in  order,  the  spider 
awaits  its  prey  at  the  door  of  its  residence.  Having  made 
a  capture,  it  retires  to  its  inmost  recesses  to  enjoy  its  meal, 
secure  in  the  knowledge  that  few  will  discover  its  well- 
concealed  home.  But  the  spider  is  not  without  its  enemies, 
who,  having  discovered  the  spider  residence,  try  to  open 
the  door.  The  inmate  resents  this  intrusion,  and  by 
clinging  to  the  silken  lining  of  the  lid  with  its  jaws  and 
fore-feet  and  to  the  silken  lining  of  the  burrow  with  its 
other  feet,  it  is  often  able  to  save  the  situation.  Should 
the  door  be  forced,  the  spider  slides  down  the  smooth 
lining  of  his  home  with  astonishing  rapidity. 

Some  of  the  trapdoor-spiders  construct  a  more  com- 
plicated burrow,  making  it  in  the  form  of  the  letter  Y. 
The  lower  arm  of  the  Y  is,  of  course,  permanently  closed  ; 
one  of  the  upper  arms  is  provided  with  a  trapdoor ;  the 
other  upper  arm  is  closed  with  a  wafer-like  layer  of  silk, 
skilfully  concealed  on  the  outside  with  moss  or  grass. 
This  arm  of  the  nest  forms  an  emergency  exit  should 
the  occasion  arise  for  a  rapid  retreat.  Another  more 
ingenious  Y-shaped  nest-builder  constructs  a  fragile  trap- 
door at  the  junction  of  the  arms  of  its  haunt.  When  the 
upper  door,  the  real  trapdoor,  is  forced  this  spider  beats 
a  hasty  retreat  to  the  lower  cul-de-sac  of  its  home  and 
s  273 


Spid 


closes  the  inner  door  against  the  intruder.  Should  this 
ruse  fail,  the  spider  ascends  to  the  second  arm  of  its  home 
and  pulls  up  the  door  behind  it  with  its  fore-feet.  In  the 
event  of  the  intruder  being  an  enemy,  the  spider  has 
reached  its  last  line  of  retreat ;  on  the  other  hand,  should 
some  unwary  insect  have  entered  the  burrow,  the  ever- 
alert  spider  will  open  its  inner  door,  seize  its  victim  and 
devour  it  in  peace. 

At  certain  periods  of  the  year  it  is  quite  impossible 
to  walk  along  a  country  road  without  one's  being  aware 
of  the  presence  of  innumerable  fine  silken  threads  floating 
in  the  air.  Cobwebs  they  are  often  and  wrongly  termed. 
Gossamer  is  the  name  by  which  these  threads  are  known. 
A  warm  autumn  day  when  scarcely  a  breeze  disturbs  the 
air  is  the  time  to  encounter  gossamer  in  the  greatest 
quantity.  As  with  pearls  and  many  other  of  Nature's 
possessions,  a  great  deal  of  imagination  was  woven  round 
this  substance  in  early  days.  It  seemed  the  custom  in 
less  matter-of-fact  times  than  our  own  to  invent  some 
pretty  story  to  account  for  matters  that  were  not  quite 
obvious.  Chaucer  frankly  admitted  that  he  could  not 
account  for  the  origin  of  gossamer ;  Spenser  thought  it 
was  dew.  All  who  wrote  of  gossamer  were  very  wide  of 
the  mark  in  their  surmises.  Gossamer  is  merely  the  silk 
of  young  spiders,  and  silk  spun  for  a  special  purpose,  to 
act  as  a  parachute  and  transport  its  maker  to  some  other 
district. 

On  a  day  when  the  warm  air,  by  rising  upwards,  assists 
in  the  operations,  young  spiders  of  many  species,  wolf, 
crab  and  jumping  spiders,  may  be  seen  scrambling,  with 
eager  haste,  to  the  top  of  various  vantage  points.  After 
aimlessly  wandering  about  for  a  short  time  a  halt  is 
called,  and  the  young  creature  raises  himself  on  tiptoe 
and  points  the  tip  of  his  body  up  on  high ;  at  the  same 
time  strands  of  the  finest  silk  are  given  off  by  the 
spinnerets.  When  sufficient  silk  has  been  spun  the 
little  creature  relaxes  its  hold  and  is  carried  far  into 

274 


Spid 


ers 


the  air.  The  warm  air  current  carries  it  upwards  and 
the  slightest  breeze  in  the  upper  layers  of  the  air  is 
sufficient  to  carry  our  little  aeronaut  for  some  distance. 
The  youngsters  are  not  so  completely  at  the  mercy  of 
the  breeze  as  might  be  thought,  for  when  the  journey, 
in  the  opinion  of  the  little  voyager,  has  lasted  long 
enough  he  simply  hauls  in  the  silken  strands,  to  which 
he  owes  his  buoyancy,  rolls  them  into  a  ball  and  gently 
descends  to  earth. 


275 


CHAPTER   XXV 

SHELL-BEARERS 

IN  this  chapter  we  propose  to  deal  briefly  with  certain 
peculiarities  of  shell-bearing  animals.  To  make  our 
position  clearer,  before  we  proceed  on  our  way,  let  us 
mention  that  our  subjects  fall  naturally  into  four  classes 
— univalves,  of  which  the  snail  is  a  type ;  bivalves,  or 
molluscs,  with  two  shells,  as  in  the  mussel ;  animals  with 
an  internal  shell,  such  as  we  find  in  the  cuttle-fish,  and 
those  without  a  shell,  the  sea-slugs.  Carrying  this  brief 
definition  in  our  minds,  let  us  learn  something  of  the  ways 
of  these  animals  which  carry  their  homes  about  with 
them  wherever  they  go.  Many  of  the  most  interesting 
habits  of  the  mollusca  can  only  be  fully  understood  when 
we  are  conversant  with  their  structure ;  but  anatomy  is 
outside  our  province,  so  we  must  confine  our  attention 
to  facts  which  require  no  such  knowledge  for  their 
comprehension. 

Many  of  the  shell-bearing  molluscs  typify,  in  the  popular 
mind,  a  high  degree  of  inactivity,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact 
their  powers  of  locomotion  are  not  nearly  so  limited  as  is 
generally  supposed.  If  we  examine  a  cockle  or  a  horse- 
mussel,  we  shall  notice  a  wedge-shaped  organ  which,  to 
the  touch,  is  much  more  rigid  than  any  other  part  of  the 
animal.  This  wedge-shaped  structure  is  the  mollusc's 
foot ;  a  queer-looking  foot  we  must  admit,  nevertheless  it 
serves  its  purpose  admirably.  When  a  pond-mussel 
desires  to  change  its  position,  it  extends  its  foot  to 
the  full,  buries  it  in  the  mud  at  the  bottom  of  the 
pond  in  which  it  is  living,  attaches  itself  to  the  mud 
particles  and  then,  by  gradually  contracting,  drags  the 
shell  along. 

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Shell-Bearers 

Progress  with  these  creatures  is  slow  but  sure.  Some 
of  the  molluscs  are  much  more  lively.  The  scallop,  a 
familiar  object  on  the  fishmonger's  stall,  with  its  pretty 
shell  and  bright  orange  foot,  swims  rapidly  in  the  water 
with  a  zigzag  movement  by  quickly  opening  and  closing 
the  valves  of  its  shell.  While  we  are  on  the  subject  of 
the  scallop,  let  us  notice  another  peculiarity  in  structure 
by  means  of  which  the  creature  is  ingeniously  protected 
from  danger.  The  cockle  will  serve  equally  well  as  an 
example  if  a  scallop  be  not  at  hand.  Despite  their  hard, 
substantial,  portable  housesj  all  molluscs  are  fit  food  for 
a  number  of  hungry  beasts,  and  ingenious  beasts  withal. 
Some  of  their  enemies  pierce  their  shells,  some  dissolve 
them,  some  break  them,  and  some,  catching  the  inmates 
napping,  force  them  open.  There  is  one  thing  the 
enemies  of  the  cockle  and  scallop  cannot  do,  and  that  is, 
push  one  valve  from  another  sideways,  and  for  this  reason  : 
the  margins  of  the  valves  are  wavy  or  toothed  or  serrate, 
and  the  hollows  of  one  valve  fit  into  the  raised  portions 
on  the  margins  of  the  opposite  valve.  Willy-nilly  some 
of  these  bivalves  display  considerable  ingenuity  in 
attempting  to  rid  themselves  of  their  enemies. 

The  oyster  is  a  type  of  stationary  mollusc ;  except  in 
its  very  young  stages  it  never  moves  from  the  spot  where 
it  first  takes  up  its  position.  Those  of  us  who  eat  these 
so-called  delicacies  cannot  fail  to  have  noticed  that  the 
left-hand  valve  is  the  larger  and  is  curved,  whilst  the  right- 
hand  valve  is  flat  or  nearly  so.  Quite  early  in  life  the 
curved  or  lower  valve  becomes  attached  to  a  stone  or 
some  other  support,  whilst  the  right  or  upper  valve 
remains  free  to  open  and  close.  Seeing  that  the  oyster 
is  such  an  immobile  creature,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  add 
that  it  has  no  foot.  In  our  wanderings  by  the  sea-shore 
we  may  often  have  picked  up  the  valve  of  an  oyster  shell 
pitted  and  bored  in  all  directions  with  a  number  of  small 
holes. 

Our  find  probably  means  little  or  nothing  to  us,  but  if 

277 


Shell-Bearers 

we  read  its  story  correctly  there  is  a  wealth  of  tragedy  in 
this  half  shell.  It  tells  of  a  life-and-death  struggle  on  the 
part  of  the  oyster  to  get  the  better  of  an  insidious  enemy 
in  the  shape  of  a  small  orange-coloured  sponge.  This 
little  sponge  has  the  objectionable  habit  of  settling  itself 
upon  an  oyster  shell  and,  having  done  so,  of  boring  in- 
numerable tunnels  in  its  surface.  The  bivalve,  in  a  vain 
attempt  to  repair  the  damage,  spends  laborious  days  in 
forming  layer  after  layer  of  shell  to  keep  pace  with  the 
ravages  of  its  enemy. 

Here  we  may  mention  that  all  these  molluscan  shells, 
like  the  eggs  of  birds,  are  formed,  for  the  most  part,  of 
calcium  carbonate,  the  substance  of  which  chalk  is  com- 
posed. Sea  and  fresh-water  molluscs  derive  the  calcium 
carbonate  from  the  water  in  which  they  dwell ;  land  mol- 
luscs obtain  it  from  the  vegetation  which  forms  their  food  ; 
and  for  this  reason  molluscs  living  on  chalky  soil  have 
heavier,  stronger  shells  than  those  which  frequent  soils  want- 
ing in  chalk.  Related  to  the  oyster  are  the  file-shells,  which 
have  the  extraordinary  habit,  among  molluscs,  of  building 
nests.  From  their  bodies  a  large  number  of  very  fine 
threads  are  given  off.  These  threads  entangle  themselves 
with  bits  of  shell,  small  stones  and  other  flotsam  and  jetsam. 
Beneath  some  favourable  stone  this  ingenious  nest  is  placed. 

Very  many  marine  molluscs  are  burrowers,  but  their 
work  is  of  so  simple  a  nature  and  displays  so  little 
ingenuity  that  we  cannot  afford  it  more  than  passing 
notice.  Their  burrowing  simply  consists  of  the  animals 
sinking  themselves  in  mud  or  sand,  that  they  may  be 
hidden  from  their  enemies.  The  bodies  of  all  molluscs 
possessed  of  this  habit  are  more  or  less  elongated,  so  that 
they  are  enabled  to  reach  the  water  for  feeding  purposes, 
while  their  shelly  homes  remain  buried.  Certain  of  these 
molluscs  do  not  even  hide  in  the  sand,  but  take  up  their 
positions  in  the  burrows  of  other  marine  organisms  or  in 
cavities  in  the  roots  of  seaweeds.  On  the  other  hand, 
a  few  of  these  creatures  are  such  inveterate  burrowers  and 

278 


Shell-Bearers 

tunnellers  that  they  are  the  cause  of  considerable  damage 
in  one  way  and  another. 

The  piddock,  an  exceedingly  common  bivalve,  with  a 
delicate  shell  whose  surface  is  somewhat  reminiscent  of 
that  of  a  file,  is,  despite  its  fragile  shell,  a  rock  burrower. 
The  precise  method  by  which  this  creature  makes  its 
home  in  the  rock  is  not  known,  but  it  is  probably  accom- 
plished by  the  foot,  aided  by  the  rasp-like  surface  of  the 
fore  part  of  the  shell.  Once  within  the  burrow,  the  mollusc 
never  leaves  it,  and  so  for  the  remainder  of  its  life  is 
amply  protected  against  its  enemies.  That  this  industrious 
and  notorious  bivalve  plays  a  considerable  part  in  the 
erosion  of  our  coasts,  especially  where  the  coastal  cliffs 
are  formed  of  chalk  or  limestone,  there  can  be  no  doubt. 
So  riddled  with  holes  do  the  cliffs  become,  where  the 
piddock  is  common,  that  the  destructive  action  of  the 
waves  is  far  more  effective  than  would  be  the  case  were 
the  cliffs  undamaged. 

There  are  other  molluscs  possessed  of  this  strangely 
unaccountable  habit  of  boring  into  rocks.  One  of  them  is 
absolutely  impartial  as  to  the  kind  of  rock  it  attacks. 
Kentish  rag,  clay  ironstone  and  Portland  stone  all  come 
alike  to  the  mollusc,  for  it  tunnels  them  all  with  pits  five 
or  six  inches  long.  It  does  not  appear  to  have  any  sense 
of  direction,  for  its  borings  point  all  ways,  in  striking 
contrast  to  those  of  the  piddock,  which  are  always 
approximately  vertical  and  parallel  to  one  another.  As 
may  be  guessed,  one  result  of  this  indiscriminate  boring 
is  that  the  tunnel  of  one  animal  frequently  opens  into  that 
of  its  neighbour.  But  the  molluscs  are  absolutely  devoid 
of  all  sense  of  politeness,  and  they  simply  bore  on  and  on, 
with  the  result  that  one  individual  will  surely  bore  through 
the  shell  and  body  of  its  neighbour. 

Of  all  the  burrowing  molluscs  by  far  the  worst  enemy 
of  mankind  is  the  shipworm,  which  makes  tunnels  of  no 
inconsiderable  dimensions  along  the  grain  of  wood-piles, 
the  bottoms  of  wooden  ships,  etc.  The  adult  shipworm 

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Shell-Bearers 

departs  from  the  usual  appearance  of  marine  molluscs  ; 
it  is  greyish-white,  nearly  a  foot  long  and  provided  with  a 
pair  of  very  minute  valves  on  its  hinder  end.  The  young 
shipworm,  during  the  first  few  hours  of  its  existence,  is  a 
lively  little  creature ;  a  miniature  hedgehog,  in  fact,  all 
studded  with  spines.  Pine,  elm,  oak  and  teak  are  all 
tunnelled  by  this  creature,  and  so  closely  placed  are  the 
borings  of  the  different  individuals  that  the  dividing  walls 
are  often  as  thin  as  a  sheet  of  paper.  Each  tunnel  is 
lined  with  a  thin  layer  of  chalky  matter,  and  it  has  been 
statedthat  a  piece  of  wood, badly  attacked  bythe  shipworm, 
contains  as  much  of  this  deposited  mineral  matters  as  of 
the  original  wood.  Our  common  shipworm  has  a  relative, 
dwelling  in  the  tropics,  with  the  curious  habit  of  tunnelling 
into  the  husks  of  coconuts  which  have  found  their  way 
into  the  sea. 

There  is  a  very  common  mollusc  of  our  coasts  which 
deserves  more  than  passing  notice.  We  refer  to  the  limpet. 
Everyone  knows  the  limpet,  but  few  of  us  probably  have 
paid  much  attention  to  it.  Astonishing  as  it  may  sound, 
it  is  none  the  less  true  that  this  creature  is  possessed  of 
nearly  two  thousand  teeth,  which  it  uses  to  scrape  minute 
vegetation,  as  food,  from  the  rocks  on  which  it  dwells. 
The  most  extraordinary  and,  curiously,  the  most  commonly 
observed  trait  of  the  limpet  is  its  power  of  adhering  to  the 
surface  of  the  rock  on  which  it  has  taken  up  its  abode. 
Its  adhesive  powers  are  wellnigh  beyond  belief,  and 
experiment  has  shown  that  a  moderate-sized  limpet  will 
support  as  much  as  a  quarter  of  a  hundredweight  for  several 
seconds  before  relaxing  its  hold. 

The  most  popular  theory,  in  explanation,  is  that  the 
mollusc  affixes  itself  by  drawing  up  its  body  in  the  centre, 
thus  imitating  a  schoolboy's  sucker.  It  is  a  theory,  however, 
which  will  not  hold,  for  if  a  limpet  and  its  shell  be  cut  in 
two,  the  halves  will  adhere  as  tightly  as  the  whole.  Of 
one  thing  we  are  certain,  the  mollusc  must  have  a  perfectly 
level  surface  to  pitch  its  home,  and  to  make  certain  of 

280 


Shell-Bearers 

this  each  limpet  constructs  a  little  level  patch  on  the  rock 
exactly  corresponding  to  the  size  of  its  shell.  And  this, 
again,  brings  us  to  a  remarkable  fact  in  the  history  of  the 
limpet.  Inert  as  these  creatures  may  appear  at  low  tide, 
they  wander  about  over  the  surfaces  of  the  rocks,  when 
they  are  covered  with  water,  in  search  of  food,  returning 
with  unerring  certainty  to  their  particular  level  patch 
after  each  foray.  This  homing  instinct  seems  to  be  well 
developed  in  the  molluscs,  for  snails  usually  return  to  the 
same  place  to  roost  evening  after  evening.  With  the 
limpet  its  return  is  a  case  of  necessity,  for  limpets  are 
of  all  sizes,  so  that  individuals  which  cannot  recognise 
their  own  level  patch  and  return  to  it  are  likely  to 
find  a  patch  which  does  not  fit  them,  with  the  result 
that,  to  their  undoing,  they  cannot  adhere  firmly  to  the 
rock. 

Amongst  land  molluscs  we  can  find  few  examples  of 
real  ingenuity.  The  prickly  snail  is  a  little  aeronaut  and 
becomes  so  in  an  ingenious  manner.  It  is  prone  to  ascend 
trees,  but  loath  to  walk  down  again,  so  what  does  he  do 
but  climb  upon  a  leaf  which  is  about  to  fall,  takes  a  firm 
hold  and  comes  to  earth  on  his  primitive  parachute.  It  is 
fortunate  that  the  snail  only  develops  this  tree-climbing 
habit  towards  autumn,  otherwise  he  would  be  com- 
pelled to  bestir  himself  and  walk  down  any  tree  he  had 
ascended. 

The  cuttle-fish  and  the  sea-hare  have  respectively  some- 
what ingenious  methods  of  escaping  from  their  enemies. 
When  alarmed,  instead  of  showing  fight,  or  burying  them- 
selves in  the  sand  or  hiding  behind  seaweed  or  employing 
any  of  the  other  methods  usual  to  sea-dwellers,  they  simply 
discharge  a  coloured  fluid  into  the  water  and  enveloped 
therein  they  swim  rapidly  out  of  danger. 

We  cannot  close  our  chapter  on  molluscs  without  some 
mention  of  pearls.  Valuable  as  they  are,  when  of  good 
quality,  at  the  same  time  they  are  merely  the  result  of 
efforts  on  the  part  of  the  mollusc  to  prevent  injury  by  a 

281 


Shell-Bearers 

foreign  body.  The  pearl  was  esteemed  as  a  jewel  so  long 
ago  as  300  B.C.  By  the  Romans  it  was  looked  upon  as  a 
sign  of  wealth,  and  seeing  that  it  was  found  in  this  country 
in  the  time  of  Julius  Caesar,  it  may  have  had  something 
to  do  with  the  Roman  conquest  of  Britain. 

Pearls  may  occur  in  almost  any  bivalve,  and  they  are  by 
no  means  confined  to  the  pearl  oyster,  as  is  commonly 
supposed,  though  in  the  shell  of  this  mollusc  they  attain 
their  finest  proportions.  By  the  way,  the  true  pearl  oyster 
is  not  an  oyster  at  all,  but  is  more  nearly  related  to  the 
edible  mussel.  And  what  of  the  pearl?  It  is  simply  a 
perverted  growth,  as  we  shall  see  presently.  The  Hindoos 
consider  that  pearls  are  consolidated  drops  of  dew.  Flashes 
of  lightning  have  been  said  to  cause  them,  and  that  they  are 
nereids'  tears  is  a  common  belief.  That  these  theories 
are  all  very  wide  of  the  mark  we  need  hardly  state,  but 
the  fact  remains  that,  despite  the  great  value  of  pearls 
and  the  amount  of  attention  which  has  been  paid  to  pearl- 
fishing,  the  exact  cause  of  the  jewels  is  still  somewhat 
veiled  in  mystery. 

That  the  pearl  is  the  result  of  a  growth  in  the  lining  of 
the  shell,  over  some  foreign  body  that  has  lodged  therein, 
is  well  known ;  the  precise  nature  of  the  foreign  body  is 
doubtful.  Some  scientists  aver  that  it  is  a  grain  of  sand 
or  some  similar  substance  ;  others  that  it  is  a  parasite. 
Probably  the  formation  of  pearls  in  the  various  pearl- 
producing  bivalves  may  be  due  to  different  causes.  In 
the  Ceylon  pearl  oyster  the  cause  of  pearl  formation  is 
certainly  a  little  worm,  whose  eggs  hatch  in  the  sea,  but 
whose  larvae  enter  a  bivalve,  set  up  pearl  formation  and 
die  entombed  in  a  pearl. 

The  Ceylon  pearl  fisheries  form  one  of  what  may  be 
termed  the  romantic  industries  of  the  world.  A  fishery 
which  took  place  at  Marichchikkaddi,  near  the  mouth  of 
the  Modragain  river,  has  been  so  graphically  described  by 
Dr  W.  J.  Dakin  in  his  excellent  little  book  on  pearls  that 
we  make  no  excuse  for  quoting  his  words,  almost  in 

282 


Shell -Bearers 

extenso.  After  a  preliminary  inspection  of  the  oyster- 
beds  by  the  government  officials  and  the  marking  out  of 
the  ground,  advertisements  are  published,  announcing  that 
a  fishery  is  about  to  take  place.  "  As  a  result  of  these 
advertisements  divers,  gem-buyers,  speculators,  money- 
lenders, petty  merchants  and  persons  of  very  diverse 
occupations  make  speedy  arrangements  for  attending  the 
fishery. 

"  Stories  of  mushroom  growth  of  towns  wherever  gold  is 
found,  or  diamonds  discovered,  or  oil  struck,  have  become 
quite  commonplace.  Tales  of  the  uprising  of  Klondike, 
Coolgardie  and  South  African  cities  fade  beside  Marich- 
chikkaddi — the  city  with  no  foundation.  This  place,  with 
its  unpronounceable  name,  is  the  pearl  metropolis  of  the 
universe.  Probably  there  is  not  a  stocked  jewel-case  that 
does  not  contain  gems  that  have  filtered  through  this 
unique  city  by  the  sea.  A  sand-drifted  waste  lying 
between  the  jungle  of  the  hinterland  and  the  ocean  is 
transformed  by  the  c  open  sesame  '  of  a  fishing  proclamation 
into  a  seething  mass  of  working  humanity  in  a  few  weeks. 
For  ten  or  twelve  weeks  Marichchikkaddi  is  one  of  Asia's 
busiest  marts.  One  would  hardly  think  that  these 
Easterners,  squatting  on  mats  in  open-front  stalls,  could 
judge  the  worth  of  a  gem  with  a  wonderful  precision. 
Usually  they  have  learned  by  long  experience  every 
*  point '  that  a  pearl  can  possess,  know  whether  it  be 
precisely  spherical,  and  has  a  good  '  skin '  and  a  lustre 
appealing  to  connoisseurs.  A  mental  colander  or  simple 
scale  enables  them  to  know  to  the  fraction  of  a  grain  the 
weight  of  a  pearl,  and  experience  and  the  trader's  instinct 
tell  them  everything  further  that  may  possibly  be  known 
of  a  gem. 

"  Each  fishing-boat  is  a  hive  of  competitive  noise  and 
activity.  All  around  are  disappearing  and  reappearing 
seal-like  heads.  By  noon  most  of  the  divers  are  tired  out 
and,  if  it  has  been  a  successful  day,  the  boats  are  fairly 
loaded  up.  The  signal  is  then  given  for  pulling  up 

283 


Shell-Bearers 

anchors.  The  men,  other  than  the  tired  -  out  divers, 
occupy  themselves  nominally  in  picking  over  their  oysters, 
throwing  away  stones,  shells  and  other  useless  things, 
and  in  preparing  the  loads  for  easy  transport  from  the 
boats  to  the  shore.  But,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  is  well 
known  that  this  opportunity  is  seized  to  *  pick '  the 
oysters  in  another  sense.  Almost  invariably  the  finest 
pearls  occur  just  inside  the  edge  of  the  shells,  and  may 
fall  out  at  any  moment.  No  doubt  many  of  these  round 
and  best-coloured  pearls  are  picked  out  during  the  run 
home  and  concealed  about  the  persons  of  the  boat's  crew. 
This  is  one  reason  why  the  government  does  not  get  its 
fair  share  of  the  pearls. 

"  The  homeward  race  of  a  hundred  or  so  ruddy-sailed 
craft  before  a  strong  wind  and  over  a  tropical  sea  is  a  very 
pretty  sight.  They  are  orientally  fantastic  in  colour  and 
shape,  and  each  deck  is  crowded  with  men  and  boys,  with 
shining  brown  skins  and  lightly  coloured  clothes  wrapped 
round  them.  Each  crew  strives  to  get  in  first,  because — 
'  first  come  is  first  served,'  and  they  who  first  dispose  of 
their  loads  are  the  first  to  be  free  to  rest.  The  load  is 
counted  and  divided  into  three  piles.  An  official  selects 
two  piles  for  the  government,  whilst  the  other  is  divided 
amongst  the  divers.  On  their  way  to  their  houses  these 
divers  are  besieged  by  a  crowd  of  natives  eager  to  buy 
from  them  their  oysters  by  the  dozen,  or  the  half-dozen, 
or  even  singly.  They  may  be  observed  stopping  at 
boutiques  and  paying  their  score  with  oysters,  extremely 
acceptable  to  the  shopkeeper  itching  to  try  his  luck.  In 
a  small  way  oysters  pass  current  here  as  the  equivalent  of 
coin." 

The  oysters  belonging  to  the  government  are  all  sold 
by  auction,  and  the  day's  catch  is  usually  sold  the  same 
night.  Failing  this,  the  balance  is  disposed  of  privately 
the  next  morning. 

"  The  washing  of  the  pearls  from  the  oyster  is  a 
most  tedious,  primitive  and  somewhat  disgusting  process. 

284 


Shell-Bearers 

The  oysters  are  simply  left  to  rot,  the  process  being 
much  assisted  by  vast  numbers  of  a  species  of  blow- 
fly, which  after  the  first  day  or  two  infests  the  whole 
camp.  The  maggots  of  this  fly  eat  their  way  through 
everything. 

"  After  a  week's  rotting,  the  seething  and  disgusting  mass 
is  sorted  by  hand  and  the  pearls,  or  such  of  them  as  are  of 
sufficient  size,  are  picked  out.  The  residue  is  now  ready 
to  be  washed.  This  is  carried  on  in  dug-out  canoes  or 
'  ballams.'  The  bivalves  are  put  in  and  water  is  poured 
over  them.  As  the  water  rises,  a  wriggling  mass  of 
maggots  floats  up  from  the  lower  recesses.  The  shells 
are  rinsed,  and  the  valves  separated  and  rubbed  to  remove 
any  detritus  in  which  a  pearl  might  lodge.  The  men 
scrutinise  the  nacreous  lining  for  attached  or  shell  pearls, 
placing  any  found  in  a  special  basket.  After  the  quantity 
has  been  reduced  somewhat  the  floating  maggots  are 
skimmed  off. 

"  Some  of  the  water  is  baled  out  through  a  sieve,  any 
material  that  remains  therein  being  carefully  returned  to 
the  ballam  lest  a  pearl  may  be  contained  or  entangled  in 
the  dirt.  More  water  is  then  added  and  the  process  of 
washing  the  shells  is  continued.  Finally,  after  all  the 
shells  have  been  removed  a  fresh  supply  of  water  is 
poured  into  the  ballam  until  it  overflows.  By  this  method 
the  lighter  filth  is  got  rid  of.  The  remainder  of  the  water 
is  decanted  and  the  heavy  debris  in  which  the  pearls  are 
mingled  is  exposed  at  the  bottom.  More  water  is  added 
and  the  detritus  or  'sarraku'  kneaded  and  turned  over 
and  over  again.  The  *  sarraku  '  is  sorted  and  winnowed 
at  leisure,  and  examined  till  the  smallest-sized  pearls  have 
been  extracted.  The  final  search  is  carried  on  by  women, 
and  it  is  amazing  to  see  what  a  large  quantity  of  small 
pearls  their  keen  eyes  and  fine  touch  enable  them  to 
obtain. 

"  The  whole  process  is  intensely  interesting  and 
picturesque,  but  it  leaves  much  to  think  about  afterwards 

285 


Shell-Bearers 

and  much  to  hope  for.  The  same  process  has  been  going 
on  in  the  same  way  for  centuries,  and  it  would  continue 
for  centuries  to  come  if  the  busy  Western  mind,  so  full  of 
new  ideas  and  plans,  were  not  turning  its  attention  'to 
improving  the  old  system." 


286 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

CORALS,  WORMS,   ETC. 

IN  this  our  penultimate  chapter  we  reach  the  low  water- 
mark of  animal  ingenuity.  One  does  not  expect  much 
intelligence  in  an  earthworm  or  a  sea-cucumber  or 
a  star-fish.  However,  it  is  our  aim  to  review  the 
animal  kingdom  as  a  whole,  therefore  we  cannot  omit 
any  animals  which,  however  humdrum  their  lives,  judged 
from  our  own  standards,  are  of  the  greatest  interest  to 
scientists. 

Let  us  begin  at  the  lowest  step  in  the  ladder  of  life. 
In  the  mud  at  the  bottom  of  our  ponds  there  is  often,  in 
fact  usually,  to  be  found  a  very  minute  little  animal 
called  an  amoeba,  so  small  that  it  can  only  just  be  seen 
with  the  naked  eye.  It  is  impossible  to  imagine  a  living 
creature  more  simple  in  structure  than  this.  To  all  intents 
the  amceba  is  little  more  than  a  small  blob  of  jelly-like 
substance  called  protoplasm,  the  basis  of  all  animal  life. 
When  the  amoeba  wishes  to  feed  it  simply  flows  round 
the  substance  destined  to  form  its  meal ;  having  digested 
all  it  can,  it  merely  flows  away  from  the  undigested 
portions.  The  life  of  such  a  simple  creature  one  might 
surmise  would  be  free  from  all  cares,  yet  the  amceba,  like 
the  rest  of  us,  has  its  troubles.  Ponds  are  liable  to  dry  up 
in  summer-time  and  the  amceba,  being  essentially  a  water 
animal,  must  make  provision  for  such  an  emergency,  and 
it  does  so  in  this  manner.  The  outer  edge  of  its  jelly-like 
body  simply  hardens  and  forms  a  thin  shell,  so  that 
periods  of  drought  cannot  dry  up  the  main  body  of  the 
animal.  In  this  state  it  either  awaits  the  rain  and  the  re- 
formation of  the  pond  or  is  carried  by  the  wind  to  another 
more  hospitable  pond.  In  either  event,  as  soon  as  it 

287 


Corals,   Worms,  etc. 

comes  in  contact  with  water,  the  shell  is  thrown  off  and 
the  amoeba  resumes  its  normal  life. 

A  little  higher  up  the  scale  of  development  we  find 
creatures  almost  as  minute  as  the  amoeba,  which,  however, 
are  covered  with  solid  armour  as  beautiful  as  it  is  varied. 
These  little  creatures,  called  foraminifera,  float  freely  in 
the  waters  of  the  ocean  and  when  they  die  their  shells  sink 
to  the  bottom.  As  there  are  countless  millions  of  these 
creatures  in  certain  parts  of  the  ocean,  their  shelly  deposits 
are  of  considerable  extent  and,  in  course  of  time,  after 
long  ages,  in  fact,  the  pressure  of  the  water  welds  them 
together  and  they  form  chalk.  Heat,  in  addition  to 
pressure,  which  occurs  when  volcanic  action  occurs  in 
the  deposits  of  foraminifera,  results  in  the  formation  of 
marble.  Many  of  these  lowly  animals  are  quite  unable  to 
exist  as  individuals,  they  therefore  combine  together  to 
form  colonies,  where  each  being  sinks  its  own  individuality 
for  the  good  of  the  colony. 

Sponges,  which  are  almost  plant-like  in  growth,  are 
merely  colonies  of  minute  animals.  "They  are  living 
thickets  in  which  many  small  animals  play  hide-and- 
seek."  Their  most  striking  peculiarity,  from  our  point  of 
view,  is  the  fact  that  they  form  so-called  spicules  of  silica. 
Silica  is  the  substance  of  which  flint  is  composed,  and  the 
sponge  spicules  are  of  real  beauty,  needle-shaped,  star- 
shaped,  dumbbell-shaped,  like  studded  clubs,  and  a  hundred  s 
and  one  other  forms  may  be  found  ;  in  fact,  they  make 
beautiful  objects  for  the  microscope.  To  the  sponges 
they  act  as  some  protection  against  their  enemies.  More 
remarkable  than  the  beautiful  shapes  of  the  spicules  is  the 
power  possessed  by  the  sponges  of  extracting  the  silica 
for  their  manufacture  from  the  sea-water  in  which  they 
dwell.  Sea-water  is  said  to  contain  about  one  and  a  half 
parts  of  silica  to  a  hundred  thousand  parts  of  water  ;  there- 
fore, to  form  an  ounce  of  spicules  a  ton  of  sea-water  must 
pass  through  the  body  of  a  sponge. 

Very  closely  related  to  the  sea-anemones  of  our  coasts 

288 


A  MISCHIEVOUS  BEAST 

A  wolverine,  finding  a  backwoodsman's  house  empty,  will  clear  it  of  everything 
movable  down  to  tne  gridiron. 


Corals,  Worms,  etc. 

are  the  corals  of  warmer  seas.  Now  the  corals,  without 
knowing  it  maybe,  are  great  architects.  The  great  B&rrier 
Reef,  one  thousand  two  hundred  miles  in  length  and  fifty 
miles  in  breadth,  is  the  sole  handiwork  of  these  little 
creatures.  For  our  purpose  let  us  look  upon  the  coral  as 
a  minute  sea-anemone.  Each  individual  forms  a  little  cup- 
like  resting-place  with  a  solid  base  ;  in  this  shelter  the  coral 
lives.  As  growth  takes  place,  the  coral  adds  more  and 
more  to  its  home,  for  it  only  dwells  on  the  ends  of  the 
stony  branches.  In  this  way  enormous  coral  deposits  are 
built  up. 

"  Animals  cease  not  to  pay  their  filial  debts.  We  see 
a  multitudinous  life  rising  like  a  mist  in  the  sea,  countless 
millions  of  microscopic  creatures  often  enclosed  in  beauti- 
ful shells  of  flint  and  lime ;  myriads  of  them  are  always 
being  killed  at  the  surface  by  vicissitudes  of  temperature 
and  the  like ;  they  sink  gently  through  the  miles  of  water 
to  find  a  grave  in  the  abysmal  ooze.  The  submarine 
volcano  top,  which  did  not  reach  the  surface,  is  slowly 
raised  by  the  rainfall  of  these  countless  minutiae.  Inch  by 
inch  for  myriads  of  years  the  snow-drift  of  dead  shells 
forms  a  patient  preparation  for  the  coral  island.  The 
tiniest,  hardly  bigger  than  the  wind-blown  dust,  form  when 
added  together  the  strongest  foundation  in  the  world. 
The  vast  whale-skeleton  falls,  but  melts  away  till  only  the 
ear-bones  are  left.  Of  the  ruthless  shark^nothing  remains 
but  the  teeth.  The  sea-butterflies  with  their  frail  shells 
are  mightier  than  these,  and  perhaps  the  microscopic 
atoms  are  strongest  of  all.  The  pile  slowly  rises,  and  the 
exquisite  fragments  are  cemented  into  a  stable  foundation 
for  the  future  city  of  corals. 

"  At  length,  when  the  height  at  which  they  can  live  -is 
reached,  coral  germs  move  themselves  to  the  sides  of  the 
raised  mound  and  begin  a  new  life  on  the  shoulders  of 
death.  They  spread  in  lightly  coloured  festoons  and  have 
often  been  likened  to  flowers.  They  surround  their  soft 
bodies  with  strong  shells  of  carbonate  of  lime,  obtained  by 
T  289 


Corals,  Worms,  etc. 

some  transformation  from  the  calcium  chloride  or  calcium 
sulphate  of  the  sea-water.  Sluggish  creatures  they  are, 
living  in  calcareous  castles  of  indolence  !  In  silence  they 
spread  and  crowd  and  smother  one  another  in  a  struggle 
for  standing-room.  The  dead  forms,  partly  dissolved  and 
cemented,  become  a  broad  and  solid  base  for  higher  and 
higher  growth.  At  a  certain  height  the  action  of  the 
breakers  begins,  great  severed  masses  are  piled  up  or  roll 
down  the  sloping  sides.  Clear  daylight  at  last  is  reached, 
the  mound  rises  above  the  water. 

"  The  foundations  are  broadened  as  vigorously  out- 
growing masses  succumb  to  the  brunt  of  the  waves  and 
tumble  downwards.  Within  the  surface-circle  weathering 
makes  a  soil,  and  birds  resting  there  with  weary  wings,  or 
perhaps  dying,  leave  many  seeds  of  plants — the  beginnings 
of  another  life.  The  waves  cast  up  dormant  life  which 
has  floated  from  afar,  and  a  terrestrial  fauna  and  flora 
begin.  It  is  a  strange  and  beautiful  story,  dead  shells  of 
the  tenderest  beauty  on  the  rugged  shoulders  of  the 
volcano;  the  slowly  laid  foundation  of  the  reef-building 
polyps ;  at  last  plants  and  trees,  the  hum  of  insects  and 
the  song  of  birds  over  the  coral  island." 

Turning  for  a  moment  to  the  common  starfish,  we  are 
confronted  with  an  undoubted  case  of  animal  ingenuity,  as 
exhibited  by  the  creature's  manner  of  feeding.  The  star- 
fish, though  muscular,  is  a  soft-bodied  creature,  and  his  food 
consists  of  bivalves,  mussels  and  the  like.  Now  the  star- 
fish has  no  means  of  piercing  the  shell  of  its  victim  as  does 
the  whelk,  or  of  causing  it  to  rot  away  as  do  certain 
sponges ;  it  relies  on  main  force  to  accomplish  its  object. 
The  common  starfish  is  a  five-rayed  creature,  and  at  the 
centre  of  the  rays  on  the  under  surface  its  mouth  is 
situated.  When  a  suitable  mussel  is  found,  the  first  care 
of  the  starfish  is  to  place  its  victim  below  its  mouth,  with 
the  help  of  the  innumerable  little  structures,  called  tube 
feet,  with  which  the  under  surfaces  of  its  rays  are  studded. 
Having  placed  its  prey  into  position,  the  starfish  raises 

290 


Corals,  Worms,  etc. 

itself  on  to  the  tips  of  its  rays  so  that  its  body  is  strongly 
arched  or  humped.  Next  it  applies  its  many  tube  feet  to 
the  sides  of  either  valve  and  pulls  strongly  and  steadily  at 
right  angles  to  their  surfaces.  Eventually  the  valves 
separate  ever  so  little  and  the  starfish  turns  its  stomach 
inside  out,  a  feat  it  can  accomplish  without  difficulty, 
inserts  it  between  the  valves  and  sucks  out  the  unfortunate 
mollusc. 

Experiment  has  shown  that  the  valves  of  a  healthy 
mussel  can  withstand  a  sudden  pull  of  4000  grammes,  but 
-that  they  will  yield  to  a  continued  pull  of  900  grammes. 
Seeing  that  the  starfish  can  exert  a  continued  pull  of  1350 
grammes,  it  is  hardly  surprising  that  it  never  goes  hungry. 
A  fight  between  a  starfish  and  a  sea-urchin  is  an  exciting 
yet  frequent  event. 

The  sea-urchin,  sometimes  called  the  sea-hedgehog,  is, 
as  its  popular  name  implies,  densely  studded  with  spines 
of  various  sizes.  Each  spine  is  attached  to  the  body  of 
the  urchin  by  a  ball-and-socket  joint  and  is  therefore 
freely  movable.  Despite  its  formidable  armour,  the 
urchin  is  no  match  for  the  starfish,  which  simply  lays  one 
of  its  rays  upon  the  urchin  and  holds  on  as  tightly  as  it 
can  with  its  tube  feet.  The  urchin  replies  by  biting  its 
adversary  vigorously,  and  the  starfish  replies  by  removing 
its  ray  and  tearing  off  several  of  the  urchin's  spines  as  it 
does  so.  This  performance  on  the  part  of  the  starfish  is 
repeated  again  and  again,  till  the  urchin  is  denuded  of 
its  armour,  when  the  starfish,  with  its  uncanny  elastic 
stomach,  sucks  out  the  vitals  of  its  victim.  One  would 
think  that  the  starfish  suffers  somewhat  in  these  conflicts. 
Probably  this  is  the  case,  but  it  is  of  little  moment,  for  the 
starfish  is  so  highly  imbued  with  the  power  of  regenera- 
tion that  one  of  its  rays,  torn  from  the  rest,  will  eventually 
grow  into  a  new  starfish. 

The  power  of  regeneration  reaches  an  extraordinary 
degree  of  development  in  a  minute,  trumpet-shaped 
animal  known  as  Stentor,  which  lives  affixed  to  water  weed 

291 


Corals,  Worms,  etc. 

in  marshy  pools.  Stentor  may  be  "chopped,  broken  or 
shaken  up  into  pieces  of  all  sizes  and  shapes,  and  every 
piece,  provided  only  that  it  is  above  a  definite  minimum 
size  (less  than  -^^  inch  in  diameter,  and  in  bulk  only  one  or 
two  per  cent,  of  a  full-grown  Stentor]  and  that  it  contains  a 
piece  of  the  nucleus,  will  blossom  out  as  a  minute  but  fully 
formed  individual,  which  will  feed  and  grow  and  be  indis- 
tinguishable from  a  product  of  natural  generation." 

We  have  just  mentioned  that  when  the  sea-urchin  is 
attacked  by  the  starfish  it  defends  itself  by  biting.  If 
we  examine  an  urchin  carefully  we  shall  see  that  its 
armour  consists  of  two  kinds  of  spines,  some  relatively 
long  and  sharply  pointed,  others  smaller  and  terminating 
in  a  pair  of  pincers.  It  is  with  these  small  pincers  that 
the  urchin  attacks  its  adversary.  Their  main  use  is  the 
capture  of  small  prey,  and  they  are  also  used  to  clean  the 
larger  spines,  for,  despite  the  fact  that  the  sea-urchin  is  a 
slow-moving  creature,  it  never  allows  itself  to  become  over- 
grown with  seaweed  as  do  so  many  animals  of  a  sluggish 
nature.  One,  at  least,  of  our  common  urchins,  the  purple- 
coloured  individual  so  common  round  our  coasts,  is  a 
burrower  of  no  mean  order.  In  limestone  and  other 
rocks  it  excavates  holes  often  as  deep  as  ten  inches.  It  is 
not  known  precisely  how  the  industrious  little  creature 
works,  but  from  the  fact  that  the  spines  of  the  urchins 
found  in  these  excavations  are  always  considerably  worn 
it  is  quite  probable  that  the  work  is  accomplished  by  the 
constant  movement  of  the  larger  spines  on  their  ball-and- 
socket  joints. 

The  urchins'  hollows  make  good  shelters  for  their 
inhabitants  ;  for,  although  the  urchin  can  walk  slowly  by 
a  movement  of  his  spines,  he  has  not  the  power  of  clinging 
firmly  to  his  rocky  home.  Therefore  till  he  has  con- 
structed his  shelter  he  is  at  the  mercy  of  the  waves.  The 
closely  related  sea-cucumbers  are  of  little  interest  to  us. 
In  one  of  them  dwells  a  little  fish,  with  what  benefit  to  the 
sea-cucumber  it  is  hard  to  say.  Another  species,  under 

292 


Corals,  Worms,  etc. 

the  name  of  "trepang,"  is  considered  a  delicacy  in  China. 
Many  of  these  animals  carry  their  young  on  their  backs 
till  they  are  able  to  fend  for  themselves.. 

The  worms,  in  the  broad  sense  of  the  word,  are  an 
exceedingly  interesting  group  of  the  animal  kingdom. 
As  an  engineer  the  common  earthworm  has  few  rivals,  or 
should  we  more  fitly  call  him  a  tiller  of  the  soil  ?  Each 
earthworm  forms  for  himself  a  burrow  which  varies  in 
depth  from  about  eighteen  inches  in  summer  weather  to 
as  much  as  six  or  seven  feet  in  dry,  cold  weather.  These 
excavations  are  made  in  the  simplest  possible  manner,  for 
the  worm  simply  pushes  its  way  through  the  earth  and 
swallows  the  soil  as  it  goes.  The  digestible  matter,  in  the 
form  of  decayed  vegetable  matter,  goes  to  build  up  the 
tissues  of  the  little  burrower,  the  indigestible  substances 
pass  through  the  earthworm's  body  to  form  the  familiar 
worm  castings.  Occasionally,  however,  the  worm  plasters 
this  finely  divided  soil  which  has  passed  through  its  body 
against  the  sides  of  its  burrow,  by  means  of  its  flattened 
tail.  In  this  manner  it  provides  a  smooth  lining  for  its 
home  and  one,  moreover,  which  it  covers  with  a  slimy 
substance  from  pores  in  its  back,  a  substance  which  forms 
both  lubricant  and  antiseptic  against  the  advent  of 
harmful  bacteria. 

By  day  the  worm  lives  below  ground,  at  night  it  sallies 
forth  in  search  of  food,  but  always  keeps  the  tip  of  its  tail 
just  within  the  entrance  to  its  burrow,  the  reason  being 
that  on  the  least  hint  of  danger  it  is  thus  enabled  to  fly  back 
into  safety.  Cold  and  damp  are  distasteful  to  earthworms, 
and,  in  addition,  they  have  many  enemies ;  it  is  not  sur- 
prising, therefore,  to  learn  that  they  plug  the  mouths  of 
their  burrows  with  leaves.  As  Darwin  pointed  out,  they 
do  not  do  this  at  random.  Each  leaf  is  carefully 
examined  till  the  narrowest  part  is  discovered,  and  this 
is  the  part  which  is  drawn  first  into  the  burrow. 

At  times  these  leaves  are  used  to  line  the  burrow,  and 
when  Scotch  pine  is  used  for  the  purpose  Darwin  noticed 

293 


Corals,  Worms,  etc. 

that  they  are  drawn  into  a  hole  by  the  part  where  the 
two  leaves  join  and  that  the  pointed,  needle-like  tips  of 
the  leaves  are  pushed  into  the  earth  at  the  side  of  the 
burrow,  so  that  they  may  not  damage  the  inmates' 
delicate  skins. 

Perhaps  in  our  gardens  we  may  have  dug  up  the  cocoon 
of  the  earthworm  without  knowing  it.  They  are  white  when 
first  formed,  turning  yellow  later,  rounded  at  one  end 
and  almost  pointed  at  the  other.  Their  mode  of  forma- 
tion is  peculiar.  On  examining  an  earthworm  we  cannot 
fail  to  notice,  about  one-third  of  the  way  down  its  body, 
a  light-coloured  ring.  When  about  to  lay  eggs,  the  worm 
gives  off  a  sticky  substance  which,  in  contact  with  the  air, 
rapidly  becomes  hard  and  horny.  As  this  ring  is  formed, 
the  worm  withdraws  and  at  the  same  time  deposits  three 
or  four  eggs  within  it.  When  free  of  the  worm,  the  ends 
of  the  ring  close  up  to  form  the  cocoon.  Later  a  single 
worm  emerges,  a  perfect  worm  in  miniature,  which 
completes  its  development  in  the  cocoon  at  the  expense 
of  the  other  eggs. 

That  earthworms  do  a  great  deal  of  good  is  undoubted. 
Darwin  estimated  that  the  average  garden  in  this  country 
contains  53,000  earthworms  and  that  ten  tons  of  soil  per 
acre  pass  through  their  bodies  each  year,  or,  in  other 
words,  that  the  earthworms  of  England  pass  320,000,000 
tons  of  earth  per  annum  through  their  bodies.  "  In  the 
history  of  the  habitable  earth,  earthworms  have  been  the 
most  important  feature  in  progress.  Ploughers  before 
the  plough,  they  have  made  the  earth  fruitful." 

The  earthworms  belong  to  the  class  of  bristle-footed 
worms  because  they  move  from  place  to  place  by  means 
of  minute  bristles  which  project  from  their  bodies.  In  the 
sea  there  are  many  interesting  worms  of  the  same  class. 
The  little  sand-mason  is  one  of  them.  So  delicate  is  this 
creature  that  it  builds  for  itself  a  tube  of  sand  in  which  it 
dwells.  In  appearance  it  is  quite  unlike  the  earthworm  ; 
round  its  mouth  there  is  a  fringe  of  tentacles,  and  with 

294 


Corals,   Worms,  etc. 

these  it  builds  its  little  shelter,  slowly,  laboriously,  yet  with 
infinite  patience.  The  sand  is  taken  up,  grain  by  grain,  in 
the  tentacles  and  passed  to  the  animal's  mouth,  where  it  is 
covered  with  saliva ;  then  the  tentacles  transfer  the  sand 
grain  to  the  margin  of  the  tube  and  place  it  in  position. 
The  sand-mason  is  a  little  builder  using  sand  grains  in 
place  of  bricks,  saliva  in  place  of  mortar. 

A  closely  related  species  uses  fragments  of  broken 
shell  for  its  home  ;  others  make  shells  so  closely  resembling 
those  of  certain  snails  that  there  is  every  excuse  for 
mistaking  the  worms  for  molluscs.  There  are  hosts  of 
other  worms — flat-worms,  tape-worms,  ribbon  and  round 
worms.  Most  of  them  show  life  histories  of  the  greatest 
interest ;  many  of  them  are  parasitic.  But,  though  interest- 
ing, their  doings  hardly  form  pleasant  reading,  and  of  signs 
of  ingenuity  they  display  not  a  particle,  unless  the  fact 
that  many  of  the  parasitic  worms  require  two  hosts  to 
complete  their  life  cycle.  Thus  the  tape-worm  of  the 
mouse  can  only  complete  its  growth  within  the  intestines 
of  the  cat ;  that  of  the  rabbit  must  pass  to  the  dog  for 
complete  development ;  a  snail  parasite  would  die  out 
entirely  were  it  not  swallowed  by  the  thrush,  and  so  on. 
Interesting  but  nauseating. 


295 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

PARASITES  AND   PREDATORS 

JUST  as,  in  the  world  of  humans,  there  are  certain  indi- 
viduals who  manage  to  eke  out  an  existence  at  the 
expense  of  other  people,  without  doing  any  work  or 
performing  any  services  in  return,  so,  in  the  world  of 
the  lower  animals,  there  are  creatures  of  similar  kind. 
Just  exactly  what  we  mean  by  a  parasite  ought  to  be 
quite  clear  to  us  before  we  go  any  further.  A  parasite  is 
a  living  being  which  dwells  upon  or  within  another  living 
being  and  derives  the  whole  of  its  livelihood  from  its  host, 
as  the  individual  upon  which  a  parasite  lives  is  called. 
There  are  semi-parasites  or  partial  parasites  and  total 
parasites.  The  partial  parasite  is  a  creature  which  is  not 
wholly  dependent  upon  its  host  for  its  well-being ;  the 
total  parasite  cannot  exist  without  its  host. 

We  must  be  careful  not  to  confuse  parasites  with  guests 
who  contribute  in  labour  or  in  kind  to  the  well-being  of 
the  animals  with  which  they  live ;  nor  even  must  they 
be  confused  with  those  individuals  who  share  another's 
dwelling  without  robbing  their  associates  of  any  of  their 
goods.  Although  the  term  parasite  is  often  used  in  a 
derogatory  sense,  it  must  not  be  imagined  that  all  parasites 
are  harmful  to  man.  Many  of  them  are  so,  it  is  true,  but, 
again,  the  activities  of  many  have  been  harnessed  for  his 
benefit.  Predators  are  simply  creatures  which  wander 
over  the  face  of  the  earth  in  search  of  prey.  The  tiger  is  a 
predator,  and  so  is  the  lady-bird,  and  a  useful  one  too. 

Let  us  first  of  all  consider  the  doings  of  a  few  of  the 
animal  predators.  We  have  just  mentioned  the  lady-bird 
so  we  will  take  this  little  beetle  as  our  first  example.  It 
deserves  pride  of  place,  for  it  is  an  exceedingly  useful 

296 


Parasites  and  Predators 

little  creature,  doing  yeoman  service  in  ridding  our  gardens 
of  the  obnoxious  green-fly.  It  is,  however,  of  an  Australian 
and  not  of  a  British  lady-bird  that  we  would  speak,  a  little 
creature  that  formed  the  central  figure  in  one  of  the 
greatest  romances  of  the  insect  world.  We  will  relate  the 
story  from  the  beginning. 

In  the  year  1868  a  scale  insect,  known  as  the  cottony- 
cushion  scale,  was  introduced  into  the  United  States  from 
Australia.  Now  there  is  no  family  of  insects  more 
destructive  than  the  scale  insects.  Two  of  them  only  are 
of  use  to  man  :  the  cochineal  insect,  from  which  a  dye  is 
prepared,  and  the  lac  insect,  from  which  shellac  is  obtained. 
A  large  family  with  only  two  reputable  members  is  indeed 
in  bad  case. 

Most  of  the  scale  insects  have  the  obnoxious  habit 
of  driving  their  awl-like  beaks  into  plant  tissues  and 
sucking  out  their  juices  ;  at  the  same  time  they  cover 
themselves  with  hard  and  horny  cases,  whence  they  derive 
their  name.  Well,  as  we  have  said,  a  number  of  these 
insects  reached  America  about  fifty  years  ago.  It  so 
happened  that  these  particular  insects  were  very 
destructive  to  citrus  plants  and,  of  course,  they  found  their 
way  to^  the  citrus  groves  of  California.  Here  they  did 
enormous  damage,  and  all  the  efforts  of  the  orange  and 
lemon  growers  to  keep  them  in  check  proved  of  no  avail. 
The  Americans,  therefore,  sent  an  entomologist  to 
Australia  with  the  object  of  discovering  how  it  happened 
that  this  scale  insect  was  not  particularly  destructive  in 
its  native  home. 

Success  met  this  scientist.  He  found  that  everywhere 
in  Australia  the  scale  was  devoured  by  a  little  red  lady- 
bird and  its  larvae.  Some  of  these  beetles  were  sent  home, 
but  they  died  on  the  voyage.  A  second  shipment  was 
more  fortunate,  and  the  little  aliens  bred  and  multiplied 
in  the  land  of  their  adoption  to  such  an  extent  that  the 
cottony-cushion  scale  is  now  no  longer  a  pest  in  California. 
The  wise  American  government,  from  which  our  own  has 

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Parasites  and  Predators 

much  to  learn  in  such  matters,  established  breeding 
stations  for  the  little  beetles,  and  now,  whenever  or  wherever 
the  cottony-cushion  scale  seems  likely  to  gain  the  upper 
hand,  hosts  of  the  beautiful  little  lady-birds  are  despatched, 
to  deal  with  the  menace  in  their  own  way. 

Some  of  the  other  attempts  to  enlist  the  services  of 
predaceous  insects  have  not  been  quite  so  happy.  About 
the  time  that  the  cottony-cushion  scale  was  ravaging  the 
orange  groves  of  California,  a  destructive  moth,  the  gipsy- 
moth,  was  introduced  into  the  eastern  states  from  Europe. 
The  larvae  of  this  moth  lost  no  time  in  stripping  all  the 
trees  bare  of  leaves,  killing  them  wholesale  and  ruining 
the  crops  of  fruit.  The  net  was  spread  far  and  wide  in 
the  endeavour  to  find  a  saviour  in  the  shape  of  an  insect 
friend.  Could  the  story  of  the  lady-bird  be  repeated  in 
this  case?  A  large  ground-beetle  was  selected  for  the 
work.  This  ground-beetle  is  essentially  predaceous.  He 
kills  moths,  their  larvae  and  their  pupae  by  severe  nips 
from  his  powerful  jaws ;  he  chases  his  prey  on  the  ground, 
pursues  them  up  trees,  travelling  to  the  very  tips  of  the 
branches  when  on  hunting  bent,  and  not  only  so,  but  his 
larvae  are  equally  bloodthirsty. 

The  purple  ground-beetle  did  not  prove  the  success 
against  the  gipsy-moth  that  had  been  anticipated.  True, 
he  did  his  duty  right  manfully  in  the  work  of  destruction, 
but  he  did  not  increase  sufficiently  rapidly  in  the  land  of 
his  adoption  to  be  of  any  real  use ;  moreover,  in  the  event 
of  a  temporary  shortage  in  the  supply  of  the  gipsy-moths 
which  formed  his  food  he  would  turn  upon  his  fellows 
and  devour  them. 

There  are  many  other  predators  in  the  insect  world  : 
dragon-flies,  which  prey  upon  insects  smaller  than  them- 
selves ;  robber-flies,  which  will  even  hawk  insects  so  large 
and  powerful  as  locusts  ;  hover-flies,  which  devour  green-fly. 
Amongst  the  birds  and  quadrupeds  predators  are  every- 
where to  be  found, 

From  the  very  nature  of  their  existence  all  parasites 

298 


Parasites  and  Predators 

are  interesting.  Their  subterfuges  to  gain  their  ends,  the 
inordinate  periods  over  which  many  of  them  can  exist 
without  food  and  the  fact  that  many  of  them  can  only 
attain  maturity  after  having  parasitised  two  hosts,  all 
combine  to  make  their  lives  worthy  of  careful  study.  The 
insect  parasite,  be  it  said,  does  not  scatter  its  favours  at 
haphazard  ;  it  is  every  whit  as  careful  to  lay  its  eggs  on 
food  which  will  suit  its  young  as  the  moth,  which  deposits 
its  eggs  on  a  certain  food  plant ;  it  takes  infinite  care  that 
the  food  may  be  in  a  fit  condition  for  consumption  when 
its  larvae  are  ready  to  make  use  of  it. 

Few  insects  show  better  judgment  in  finding  where 
to  lay  their  eggs  than  a  little  black  wasp  which  seeks 
out  the  common  museum-beetle.  These  museum-beetles 
belong  to  a  large  family  known  as  the  leather-beetles, 
from  their  partiality  for  such  fare.  All  of  them  are  drab 
little  beasts  and  our  example  is  a  voracious  devourer  of 
feathers,  dried  insects  and  the  like.  The  grubs  of  these 
beetles  are  peculiar  amongst  beetle  larvae  in  being  hairy, 
exceptionally  so,  a  fact  which  serves  as  an  excellent 
protection  from  most  of  their  enemies,  for  few  creatures 
will  attack  a  hairy  insect.  Our  little  black  wasp  is  not  to 
be  put  off  by  such  a  trifle  as  a  fur  coat  ;  she  hunts 
assiduously  for  the  beetle  grubs  amongst  the  feathers  and 
similar  substances  which  they  frequent.  Having  found  a 
victim,  the  delicately  fashioned  little  wasp  jumps  upon 
his  back.  Such  a  proceeding  is  more  than  the  beetle  grub 
can  stand,  and  he  struggles  violently  to  rid  himself  of  his 
uninvited  guest.  The  more  he  struggles,  however,  the 
tighter  the  wasp  clings,  till  at  length,  tired  out  by  his 
efforts,  his  violence  subsides.  This  is  the  chance  for 
which  the  little  wasp  has  been  waiting  ;  she  curls  her  long, 
flexible  body  round  to  the  under  side  of  the  grub  and 
inserts  her  sting  just  behind  its  middle  pair  of  legs. 

The  usual  effect  of  this  proceeding  is  to  paralyse  the 
grub,  but  on  this  point  the  wasp  is  most  careful  to  make 
every  investigation.  To  watch  her  testing  her  victim  to 

299 


Parasites  and  Predators 

see  if  her  sting  has  done  its  work  is  a  sight  that  must 
interest  every  naturalist.  She  climbs  down  from  her 
position  on  the  back  of  the  beetle  larva  ;  then  she  proceeds 
to  pull  its  legs,  in  turn,  and  also  various  parts  of  its  hairy- 
covering.  To  satisfy  the  wasp,  her  victim  must  exhibit  no 
sign  of  life.  And  the  reason  is  not  far  to  seek. 

We  mentioned  that  certain  solitary  wasps  were  in  the 
habit  of  producing  paralysis  in  their  victims  before  they 
laid  their  eggs  upon  them :  this  little  black  wasp  affords 
a  parallel  case.  Should  the  beetle  grub  be  killed  outright, 
it  would  putrefy  in  a  very  short  time ;  should  it  not  be 
paralysed,  it  would  continue  to  grow,  and  a  growing  insect 
sheds  its  coat  from  time  to  time,  a  happening  that  would 
be  fatal  to  the  parasite's  projects.  Satisfied  that  her 
victim  is  reduced  to  a  sufficiently  comatose  state,  the 
wasp  will  reduce  grub  after  grub  to  a  state  of  inertia.  Far 
more  grubs  are  put  out  of  count  than  ever  the  wasp  can 
utilise. 

Returning  after  her  labours  to  her  first  victim,  she  again 
inserts  her  sting  in  the  very  spot  where  she  first  punctured 
the  grub's  skin  ;  in  doing  so  she  enlarges  the  first-formed 
hole.  Around  this  hole  she  carefully  deposits  from  one 
to  six  semi-opaque  eggs,  in  such  a  position  that,  when  her 
larvae  hatch,  their  heads  will  all  be  turned  towards  the 
wound  she  has  made. 

On  hatching,  the  pale  yellow  larvae  all  apply  their  heads 
to  the  cavity  formed  by  their  mother  and  suck  the  juices 
of  their  victim  in  no  uncertain  manner.  Six  hungry  grubs, 
all  imbibing  vital  fluids  continuously,  soon  reduce  the  beetle 
larva  to  the  condition  of  a  shrivelled  husk.  This  mere 
shell,  however,  still  has  its  uses,  for  the  wasp  grubs  crawl 
within  it  for  shelter,  preparatory  to  spinning  their  cocoons. 

There  are  a  very  large  number  of  these  insect  parasites. 
In  general  habits  they  are  very  like  the  wasp  we  have  just 
described,  and  most  of  them  also  are  closely  related  to  the 
wasps  and  bees.  In  one  case  matters  are  cut  so  fine  that 
if  all  the  parasitic  grubs  do  not  grow  at  the  same  rate 

300 


Parasites  and  Predators 

disaster  awaits  the  whole  brood.  This  happens  in  the 
case  of  a  little  wasp,  with  the  uncomfortable  habit  of 
laying  its  eggs  on  the  backs  of  caterpillars.  Now  a  good 
fat  caterpillar  may  be  described  in  very  unscientific 
language  as  a  juicy  individual ;  when  his  thin  skin  is 
punctured  his  vitals  quickly  dry  up. 

The  grubs  of  the  wasp  we  mentioned  come  into  the 
world  on  the  back  of  a  caterpillar  and  they  all  begin  to 
feed  at  holes  in  the  skin  of  their  host.  So  long  as  they 
keep  their  heads  buried  in  his  flesh,  all  well  and  good,  but 
should  one  of  them  meet  with  mishap  or  cease  feeding, 
a  most  unlikely  event,  his  host  will  rapidly  dry  up,  losing 
his  moisture  from  the  open  wound  in  his  skin.  The 
result  of  this  would  be  that  all  the  other  wasp  grubs  would 
die  from  lack  of  nourishment.  Now  most  caterpillars  feed 
for  some  time,  and  as  they  do  so  they  grow  and  cast  their 
skins  several  times  before  they  are  fully  fed. 

In  the  case  of  our  wasp  grub,  Nature,  as  though  fearing 
that  misfortune  might  overtake  the  grubs  were  they  long- 
lived,  has  ordained  that  they  shall  attain  their  full  develop- 
ment in  three  days.  In  fact  the  whole  life  cycle  of  this 
little  wasp,  from  mother  insect  to  egg,  from  egg  to  grub, 
from  grub  to  chrysalis  and  again  to  prospective  mother,  is 
completed  in  the  remarkably  short  time  of  a  week  and 
a  day  ! 

One  of  the  most  extraordinary  of  insect  parasites  is 
known  as  the  ant-decapitating  fly.  It  is  almost  brutal  in 
its  methods.  The  little  fly  deposits  a  single  egg  on  the 
neck  of  a  common  black  American  ant.  When  the  grub 
hatches  from  the  egg  it  loses  no  time  in  boring  into  the 
head  of  its  living  host.  As  it  grows  it  gradually  fills  the 
whole  head  cavity,  till  at  length  the  unfortunate  ant 
gradually  loses  that  useful  member.  The  grub  still  hides 
within  the  shell  of  a  head,  feeding  on  such  morsels  as  the 
brain,  but  the  hinder  parts  of  its  body  project  from  its 
shelter,  so  that  we  are  presented  with  the  curious  spectacle 
of  the  ant's  head,  apparently,  walking  about  on  its  own 

301 


Parasites  and  Predators 

account.  Still  within  the  head  of  its  victim  the  fly  grub 
changes  into  a  chrysalis. 

All  the  parasites  we  have  described  are  external ;  they 
live  outside  the  bodies  of  their  hosts.  There  are  also  a 
very  large  number  of  insect  parasites  which  never  see  the 
light  of  day  during  their  immature  stages,  dwelling  all 
the  while  within  the  body,  which  at  once  provides  them 
with  board  and  lodging.  A  very  remarkable  fact  about 
these  internal  parasites  is  that,  though  they  may  live  and 
feed  for  a  considerable  period  within  the  body  of  some 
luckless  caterpillar,  for  instance,  they  never  touch  any 
vital  organ  till  their  feeding  days  are  over  and  they  are 
ready  to  change  into  chrysalids.  By  avoiding  the  vitals 
they  ensure  a  supply  of  food  for  themselves  as  long  as  it  is 
needed. 

Before  leaving  the  insect  parasites  let  us  notice  two 
points.  It  is  an  almost  universal  rule  in  the  animal 
kingdom  that  a  single  egg  produces  a  single  young  one. 
A  search  amongst  parasitic  insects  will  reveal  exceptions 
to  this  rule.  There  is  a  little  parasite  given  to  laying  its 
eggs  in  those  of  a  moth  closely  related  to  our  clothes- 
moth.  Each  parasite  egg  gives  rise  to  several  grubs  which 
feed  upon  the  bodies  of  their  host  larvae.  We  all  know  the 
old  saying  concerning  big  fleas  having  little  fleas,  etc.,  but 
few  of  us  realise  how  true  in  fact  these  words  are.  They 
are  well  exemplified  in  the  many  cases  of  hyperparasitism 
— that  is  to  say,  cases  where  a  parasite  is  itself  preyed 
upon  by  another  parasite ;  and  this  reminds  us  of  a  triple 
tragedy  which  actually  took  place. 

During  the  gipsy-moth's  depredations  in  America  it 
and  its  doings  were  very  carefully  studied  with  a  view  to 
discovering  certain  parasites  which  might  lend  their  aid 
in  getting  rid  of  the  moth.  During  some  investigations  on 
the  eggs  of  the  moth  a  certain  insect  was  found  to  deposit 
its  eggs  therein.  Hardly  were  the  parasite's  eggs  safely 
packed  away  within  those  of  the  gipsy-moth  when  another 
insect — a  hyperparasite — came  along  and  deposited  a 

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Parasites  and  Predators 

couple  of  eggs  in  each  parasitised  egg.  From  the  hyper- 
parasite's  eggs  two  fat  and  lusty  grubs  emerged,  and  they 
remained  within  the  gipsy-moth's  egg,  feeding  upon  the 
yolk.  Fate,  however,  was  not  to  treat  them  kindly,  for 
they  had  hardly  begun  to  enjoy  life  when  a  third  parasite 
came  along  and  deposited  its  egg  within  that  of  the  gipsy- 
moth.  From  the  egg  of  this  third  parasite  there  hatched 
a  youngster,  which  devoured  his  two  companions,  the 
grubs  of  the  second  parasite  and,  weathering  all  the 
storms  of  infancy,  emerged  in  due  course  as  a  perfect 
insect. 

And  the  tale  with  variations  could  be  repeated  over  and 
over  again.  The  struggle  for  existence  amongst  the  insects 
is  indeed  severe.  Amongst  the  birds,  parasites  are  not 
common,  or  we  should  say,  more  correctly,  that  bird 
parasites  are  not  common,  for  the  birds,  like  the  rest  of  us, 
have  their  worries  in  the  shape  of  insect  parasites.  Many 
of  the  cuckoos  have  parasitic  tendencies  ;  the  frigate-birds 
and  skuas  are  also  parasites. 

A  most  peculiar  and  insidious  parasite,  known  as 
Sacculina^  occurs  amongst  the  crabs.  Sacculina  in  its 
young  stages  is  a  free  swimming  individual  ;  with  the 
passage  of  time  it  loses  its  good  character,  enters  the  body 
of  a  crab  and  resigns  itself  to  a  parasitic  life  in  its  worst 
form.  Changing  its  appearance  as  well  as  its  habits,  it 
becomes  converted  into  what  may  be  termed  as  little 
better  than  a  growth  which  branches  in  all  directions 
within  the  body  of  its  unfortunate  host. 

The  worms  can  offer  parasites  galore,  unpleasant 
creatures  most  of  them,  yet  teeming  with  interest  one  and 
all.  Flat-worms,  tape-worms,  thread-worms  and  liver- 
flukes,  they  are  nearly  all  of  parasitic  habit.  We  may  let 
the  very  common  liver-fluke  serve  as  our  example  of 
a  parasitic  worm.  This  creature  lives  upon  the  livers  of 
sheep  and  cattle.  They  are  not  pleasant  visitors,  for  they 
cause  the  death  of  hundreds  of  thousands  of  sheep 
annually.  They  are  interesting  because  they  form  an 

303 


Parasites  and  Predators 

example  of  the  large  group  of  parasites  which  require 
two  hosts  to  complete  their  life  cycle. 

The  adult  fluke,  as  it  infests  the  liver,  has  a  flattened 
leaf-like  body  and  measures  nearly  an  inch  in  length: 
There  are  no  males  and  females ;  each  individual  is 
capable  of  producing  about  five  hundred  thousand  very 
minute  eggs.  These  eggs  pass  from  the  body  of  the  host 
and  then  their  troubles  begin.  Should  they  fall  on  dry 
ground,  their  careers  are  at  an  end,  but,  Fortune  favouring 
them,  they  may  fall  into  a  pond  at  which  the  sheep  is 
drinking.  Should  this  happen,  small  tailed  larvae  will 
hatch  therefrom,  and  they  swim  about  in  the  water  for 
a  day. 

Again,  at  this  period  they  are  in  danger  of  extinction. 
No  wonder  the  liver-fluke  lays  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
eggs,  for  many  dangers  await  the  youngsters.  Should  the 
swimming  larvae  come  in  contact  with  a  certain  water- 
snail,  all  will  be  well.  They  bore  into  the  soft  tissues  of 
the  snail  and  undergo  certain  changes  within  its  body. 
Eventually  they  leave  the  snail  and  become  encysted — that 
is  to  say,  covered  with  a  resistant  shell.  Within  this  shell 
further  changes  take  place  till  the  little  creatures  assume 
the  form  of  minute  liver-flukes.  Sheep  in  drinking 
swallow  these  little  shells  with  their  contained  flukes  and 
by  the  action  of  the  digestive  juices  the  flukes  are  soon 
liberated  from  their  imprisonment ;  they  rapidly  work 
their  way  to  the  liver  and  develop  into  adult  flukes. 

The  mention  of  the  snail  which  plays  so  important 
a  part  in  the  development  of  the  liver-fluke  reminds  us 
that  some  of  the  shell-fish  are  parasitic  during  a  portion  of 
their  lives.  In  our  chapter  on  fishes  we  mentioned  the 
case  of  the  bitterling  and  the  pond-mussel. 

We  need  not  trace  the  development  of  the  young 
mussel  from  its  egg  to  its  parasitic  stage.  Quite  early  in 
its  life,  however,  soon  after  it  has  attained  the  dignity  of 
a  pair  of  valves,  it  possesses  a  long  sticky  thread  which 
floats,  from  between  its  valves,  in  the  water.  Should  any 

304 


Parasites  and   Predators 

passing  fish  come  in  contact  with  this  thread  the  little 
mussel  has  found  what  it  was  seeking.  The  sticky  thread 
adheres  to  the  fish  and  the  mussel  as  likely  as  not  will  come 
in  contact  with  the  body  of  its  new-found  host  Directly 
this  happens  the  shell-fish  adheres  with  the  tenacity  of 
a  bull-dog ;  it  is  enabled  to  do  so  because  its  valves  are 
armed  with  sharp  hooks.  Holding  tight  to  the  flesh  of 
the  fish,  considerable  irritation  is  set  up,  and  this  causes 
a  cyst,  a  sort  of  case,  to  be  formed  around  the  mussel. 

Thus  ensconced  within  the  flesh  of  its  host,  the  bivalve 
continues  its  development,  assumes  the  valves  of  the  adult 
in  miniature  and  is  ready  to  fend  for  itself.  By  this  time 
the  cyst  on  its  host's  body  withers  and  falls  off,  with  the 
result  that  the  young  mussel  is  set  free. 

The  subject  of  parasitology  is  one  of  the  most  absorb- 
ingly interesting  branches  of  natural  history,  but  it  is 
hardly  a  subject  that  can  be  discussed  in  any  work  of 
a  popular  nature. 

Among  predators  there  are  many  animals  of  peculiar 
habits.  It  is  difficult  to  define  a  predator  ;  practically 
every  flesh-eating  animal  is  a  predator,  for,  of  necessity,  all 
such  creatures  must  hunt  their  prey.  Of  all  these  animals 
the  most  interesting  are  those  who  allow  their  fellows  to 
do  the  hunting  and  then  rob  them  of  their  hard-won  spoils. 

The  naturalist  -  Audubon  instances  an  extraordinary 
case  of  impudence  which  he  observed  in  the  southern 
states  of  America.  At  a  spot  where  brown  pelicans  were 
common,  black-headed  gulls,  in  quantity,  would  lie  in 
wait  for  the  larger  birds.  A  pelican,  fortunate  enough  to 
have  had  a  good  catch,  was  the  object  of  attention  on  the 
part  of  the  gulls.  As  the  pelican  swam  shorewards,  his 
pouch  well  stocked  with  fish,  the  gulls  harried  him  to  such 
an  extent,  even  to  alighting  on  his  head,  that  he  opened 
his  beak  and  out  dropped  some  of  his  catch.  The  fish,  as 
they  tumbled  back  into  the  water,  were  seized  by  the  gulls, 
who  thus  secured  a  meal  without  the  trouble  of  hunting 
for  it. 

u  305 


Parasites  and  Predators 

The  robbing  of  the  pelican  by  the  gulls  may  have  been 
an  isolated  instance  of  piracy,  but  there  are  many  cases 
of  animals  which  persistently  and  methodically  rob  their 
fellows. 

The  white-headed  sea-eagle  or  bald-eagle  lives  by  piracy 
on  the  osprey.  The  latter  bird  is  an  expert  fisherman. 
A  keen-sighted,  powerful  flyer,  he  sails  majestically  over 
his  fishing  grounds  till  he  is  rewarded  by  the  sight  of  some 
finny  prey  worthy  of  his  mettle.  Down  into  the  water  he 
plunges  anon  and  momentarily  vanishes  in  a  shower  of 
spray,  to  return  presently  with  a  fish  grasped  firmly  in  his 
powerful  talons. 

Lucky  is  the  osprey  who  has  fished  unobserved,  for  the 
bald-eagle  and  his  mate  have  probably  watched  him  from 
afar.  The  lightning  plunge  of  the  osprey  is  the  signal  for 
these  bold  robbers  to  hasten  themselves.  With  awe- 
inspiring  screams,  he  and  his  mate  attack  the  heavily  laden 
osprey,  who  sooner  or  later  abandons  the  unequal  combat 
and  relinquishes  his  prey.  Almost  before  the  fish  has  left 
the  osprey's  talons  it  is  seized  by  the  eagles  and  borne  off 
in  triumph  to  the  neighbouring  cliffs  and  there  devoured. 


306 


INDEX 


I 
I 


A 

^PYORNIS,  137 
Albatross,  in 
Alligator,  227,  231 
Alternation    of    generations, 

74 

Amblystoma,  225 

Amoeba,  287 

Anaconda,  232 

Ant,  17, 42, 165  ;  Amazon,  54  ; 
callows,  47  ;  cleanliness  of, 
48 ;  cocoons,  47 ;  decapi- 
tating fly,  300  ;  driver,  43  ; 
eggs  of,  45 ;  gardens,  52  ; 
harvesting,  43,  51 ;  honey- 
pot,  48 ;  leaf-cutting,  52, 
106 ;  legionary,  43  ;  lion, 
61 ;  lion  pits,  61 ;  nest,  43  ; 
nuptial  flight  of,  44,  47 ; 
nurses,  46 ;  queen,  44 ; 
slave-making,  53 ;  societies, 
42  ;  soldiers,  52  ;  white,  55  ; 
workers,  45 

Aphis,  77,  222 

Axolotl,  225 

B 

BADGER,  193,  209 

Bag-worm,  83 

Bald-eagle,  306 

"Balling  "bees,  22 

Barbet,  146 

Barnacle,  253 

Bat,    194 ;    colour    of,    198 ; 

Hodgson's,   198 ;    plantain, 

198  ;  senses  of,  195 


Beaver,  201 ;  dams,  202  ;  huts, 
202,  203  ;  lodges,  203 

Bedeguar,  74 

Bee,  17, 18,  90  ;  bread,  21,  34  ; 
blunt-tongued,  36 ;  carpen- 
ter, 33 ;  carpenter,  small, 
35 ;  doorkeeper,  25 ;  drones, 
18  ;  eggs,  21 ;  hive,  18  ; 
ventilation  of,  24 ;  honey, 
24 ;  jelly,  20,  22  ;  leaf-cut- 
ting, 31  ;  nests  of,  32;  louse, 
26  ;  mason,  36  ;  moth,  26  ; 
nurses,  27  ;  parasites,  33  ; 
potter,  36;  queen,  18 ; 
sharp-tongued,36;  solitary, 
31 ;  swarm,  19  ;  trumpeters, 
28  ;  wax,  19  ;  wool-carder, 
35  ;  workers,  18 

Beef-eater,  174 

Beetle,  ambrosia,  67  ;  blister, 

107,    244;     cigarette,    69; 

leather,  299  ;  museum,  299; 

purple  ground,  298  ;  silver 

^  water,  93  ;  tiger,  79 

Bird  of  paradise,  155,  161  ; 
king,  155 

Bitterling,  248,  304 

Bittern,  148 

Blackbird,  129,  137,  141 

Black-headed  gull,  305 

Bower-bird,  154,  160 

Brambling,  181 

Brazilian  tree-frog,  245 

Bright  colours,  107 

Brock,  209 

Brown  pelican,  305 

Brush-tailed  rat,  215 


307 


Index 


Brush-turkey,  112,  113 

Buccaneer-fly,  105 

Buffalo,  174 

Bulbul,  108 

Bullfinch,  150 

Bumble-bee,  18,  26,  106 ;  and 

clover,  28 

Bustard,  crested,  175 
Butterfish,  247 
Butterfly,  cabbage,  white,  97  ; 

leaf,  100 


CADDIS-FLY,  80  ;  cases,  81, 84 

Callows,  47 

Canary,  223 

Caribou,  187 

Cassowary,  in 

Cat,  189,  295 

Chaffinch,  125,  150 

Chameleon,  235,  259 

Chimpanzee,  219 

Chipping  squirrel,  211 

Cicada,  97 

Cochineal  insect,  17,  297 

Cockchafer,  178 

Cockle,  276 

Cockroach,  94;  egg-case  of,  94 

Colour  of  eggs,  139 

Commensalism,  165 

Coot,  114 

Coral,  289 

Cormorant,  141 

Corn-crake,  148 

Cottony-cushion  scale,  297 

Courser,  black-backed,  115 

Crab,  154,  163,  174,  253,  303  I 

coconut,  255  ;  fiddler,  254  ; 

hermit,  171,  256;  masked, 

259 ;     robber,     254,     255 ; 

spider,    258 ;    violet    land, 

253 


Crayfish,  259 

Crocodile,  174,  196,  227,  331 
Crow,  142  ;  king,  108 
Cuckoo,  107,  153,  181,  303^ 

bees,  36  ;  fork-tailed,  108  ; 

spit,  88 
Curlew,  181 
Cuttlefish,  276,  281 

D 

DABCHICK,  114, 115 
Death-watch,  66 
Desert  birds,  146,  147 
Dipper,  131,  181 
Dog,  189,  190,  295 
Dormouse,  217,  221,  223 
Dragon-fly,  298 
Drone,  18  ;  fly,  90,  105 
Duck,  136,  141 
Duckbill,  211 
Duck,  tufted,  181 


EAGLE,     108 ;     bald,     306; 

white-headed  sea,  306 
Earthworm,  287,  293 
Earwig,  96 
Eel,  185,  249 
Egret,  174 
Elephant,  174,  196 
Elk,  205  ;  yard,  205 
Elvers,  180 
Emu,  in 
Ermine,  221 


FALCON,  Arctic,  149 
Fern  owl,  142 
Fieldfare,  181,  182 
Fiery  topaz,  131 
File  shell,  278 


308 


Index 


Fishes  migrating,  185 

Flamingo,  112 

Flatworm,  295,  303 

Flea,  223 

Foraminifera,  288 

Fox,   178,   192,  208 ;    Arctic, 

209 ;  earth,  209 
Friar  birds,  108 
Frigate  birds,  303 
Frog,  241 ;  hopper,  88 


GADFLY,  94 

Gall,  artichoke,  73;   currant, 

73>    74;     formation,     73; 

kidney,    73 ;    makers,    72 ; 

marble,  76  ;  pine-apple,  77  ; 

spangle,  73,  74,  75 
Gipsy  migrants,  182 
Giraffe,  196 
Glutton,  208 
Gnat  buffalo,  90 
Goby,  247 
Golden  eye,  63 
Goldfinch,  125 
Gorilla,  220 
Gossamer,  274 
Grallina,  129 

Grebe,     136,     139;      great- 
crested,  157 
Greenfinch,  150 
Green-fly,  165,  222,  297,  298 
Greyhound,  190 
Grosbeak,  127 
Grouse,  in  ;    red,  148,    180, 

181 ;    sand,    181 ;     willow, 

146 
Guillemot,  109,  143 

H 

HAMMER-HEAD,  123 
Hang-nest,  127,  129 


Hawk,  143,  152,  192 
Harvest  mouse,  216 
Hedgehog,  223 
Heron,  141,  152 
Herring  gull,  224 
Hippopotamus,  196 
Honey,  19  ;  bee,  17, 18  ;  comb 

19;  dew,  165;  pot,  48;  sac, 

24 

Hornbill,  120,  137 
Hornet,  29 
Horn-tail,  72 
Horse  bot-fly,  98 
House-martin,  130,  140 
House-sparrow,  143, 161,  191 
Hover-fly,  105,  298 
Humming-bird,  123,  137 
Hyaena,  191 
Hyperparasite,  302 

I 

IDENTIFICATION  marks,  197 
Insects     and     disease,     17 ; 
domesticated,  17 

j 

JACKAL,  191 
Jackdaw,  119,  142 
Jacksnipe,  181 
Jaguar,  191 
Jay, 150 
Jelly-fish,  173 


K 

KINGFISHER,  117,  137, 

140, 141, 146 
Kiwi,  115,  137 
Knot,  147,  181 


139, 


JL  J.O.11J 


LACEWING,  63,  167 ;  eggs  of, 
63 


309 


Index 


Lac  insect,  17,  297 
Ladybird,  296 
Lantern-fly,  165 
Lark,  crested,  147 
Leaf-miner,  89  ;  roller,  85 
Lemming,  188 
Leopard,  191 
Leptocephali,  186 
Limpet,  280 
Lion,  191,  197 
Liver-fluke,  303 
Lizard,    227,    232 ;     horned, 

234 ;  teratera,  175 
Lobster,  253 
Locust,  94,  178,  298 
Looper  caterpillar,  102 

M 

MAGPIE,  126, 142 

Manna,  166 

Mantis,  94 

Marsh  birds,  146 

Marten,  192 

Meadow-pipit,  142 

Migration  of  fishes,  185 

Mimicry,  aggressive,  100 ; 
protective,  100 

Mole,  195,  206,  212 ;  fortress, 
206 ;  hill,  206 

Moor  birds,  146 

Moor-hen,  114 

Moose,  205  ;  yard,  205 

Mosquito,  97 

Moth,  bag-worm,  83 ;  brown 
china-marks,  82 ;  clear- 
wing,  70,  104  ;  clothes,  84 ; 
gipsy,  298 ;  goat,  65 ;  hornet 
clearwing,  104  ;  lackey,  97  ; 
oak  tortrix,  86 ;  pine- 
beauty,  103 ;  processionary, 
178  ;  red  underwing,  103  ; 
resin,  72;  wood-leopard,  70 


Mound  birds,  112,  113 

Mountain  hare,  221 

Mouse,  218,  295  ;  short-tailed 

field,  218 
Musk-rat,  204 
Musquash,  204  ;  huts,  204 
Mussel,  174,  276,  304 

N 

NASUTI,  57 
Nectar,  24 
Newt,  241 
Nightingale,  140 
Nightjar,  no,  137,  138,  142 
Noddy,  no,  112 

O 

OAK  apple,  73,  76 

Orang-outang,  219 

Oriole,  108  ;  Baltimore,  128  ; 

golden,  125,  215 
Osprey,  306 
Ostrich,  in,  137,  138 
Otter,  193 
Oven-bird,  129 
Oxpecker,  174 
Oyster,  277  ;  catcher,  147 


PAPER-MAKERS,  29 
Parrot,  141,  146,  152 
Partridge,  in,  141 
Peacock,  154 
Pearls,  281 
Peccary,  192,  232 
Pelican,  brown,  305 
Pencilled  bettong,  215 
Penguin,  109 
Perils  of  migration,  183 
Pheasant,  141,  146 
Piddock,  279 


310 


Index 


Pigeon,  146,  154 

Pilot-fish,  175,  252 

Pine-marten,  192 

Plaice,  224 

Plover,  137,  139;  black- 
headed,  174 ;  ringed,  143, 
147;  split-winged,  174 

Pocket-gopher,  212 

Polecat,  192 

Pollen  baskets,  23 

Powder-down,  152 

Prairie  dog,  175, 210  ;  villages, 
210 ;  hen, 159 

Prawn,  173 

Prickly  snail,  281 

Propolis,  25 

Protective  coloration,  145 

Proteus,  225 

Ptarmigan,  148,  221 

Puffin,  119,  137,  140 


R 

RABBIT,  150, 197,  210,  295 
Rabbit-eared  bandicoot,  216 
Rat-tailed  maggot,  90 
Rattlesnake,  210 
Raven,  149 

Recognition  marks,  197 
Redstart,  150  ;  black,  150 
Redwing,  182 
Reed-warbler,  133,  215 
Reindeer,  187 
Rhea,  in 
Rhinoceros,  174 
Rhinoceros  bird,  174 
Ribbon-worm,  295 
Ring-dove,  126,  150 
Robber-fly,  105,  298 
Robin,  122, 181,  244 
Robin's  pincushion,  74 
Round-worm,  295 


Ruff,  158 
Russell's  viper,  239 


SACCULINA,  303 
Salamander,  223 
Salmon,  185,  246 
Sand-mason,  294 
Sand-martin,  116,  140 
Sandpiper,  139,  182 
Sand-wasp,  36 
Sawfly,  96 
Scale  insect,  165 
Scallop,  277 
Scorpion,  154, 162 
Sea-anemone,  173,  257,  288  ; 

cucumber,  287  ;  hare,  281 ; 

hedgehog,  291 ;  horse,  251 
Seal,  194 
Sea-slug,  276 
Seasonal  changes,  226 
Sea-urchin,  291 
Shark,  175,  252 
Shape  of  eggs,  139 
Sheep,  304 ;  nostril  fly,  99 
Sheldrake,  119 
Shipworm,  279 
Shooting-fish,  2^2 
Shore  birds,  141 
Shore  lark,  182 
Shrike,  108;  grey,  132  ;  larder, 

132 ;  red-backed,  132 
Shrimp,  253 ;    hump-backed, 

259 

Silkworm,  17,  263 
Silver-fish,  170 
Skua,  108,  303 
Skunk,  200 
Skylark,  142 
Slave-making  ant,  53 
Sloth,  199 
Smith,  245 


Index 


Snail,  276,  295 

Snake,  235;    charming,  238; 

hog-nosed,  235 
Snipe,  137,  140 
Snow  bunting,  149,  182 
Social  wasps,  18,  28 
Soldier  ants,  52 
Sole,  224 

Solitary  wasps,  36,  300 
Sparrow-hawk,  107,  108 
Spider,  154,  161,  261 ;    bird- 
eating,  262  ;    garden,  263  ; 

raft,   272  ;    trapdoor,   272  ; 

water,   271  ;    web   of,   123, 

265  ;  wolf,  272 
Sponge,  288 
Springbok,  189 
Springtail,  161 
Squirrel  nest,  217 
Star-fish,  287,  290 
Starling,  122,  181 
Stentor,  291 
Stick  insect,  96,  101 
Stickleback,      249 ;      fifteen- 

spined,  249;    three-spined, 

249 

Stoat,  192,  221 
Stockdove,  119 
Stork,  141 
Stormy  petrel,  119 
Sun-bird,  146 
Swallow,  139,  149,  181,  182, 

184 

Swarm  of  bees,  19 
Swift,  144,  181,  182 
Sword-fish,  200 


TADPOLE  nurseries,  245 
Tailor-bird,  134 
Tape-worm,  295,  303 
Tent  caterpillars,  89 


Teratera  lizard,  175 

Termites,  17,  42,  55,  65  ;  egg- 
laying  of,  58  ;  in  nests,  114  ; 
mounds,  56;  nasuti,  57,  60 ; 
nuptial  flight  of,  56  ;  nurses, 
57;  queen,  57;  royal  cell, 
57>  595  soldiers,  57,  60; 
workers,  57 ; 

Tern,  108,  no ;  Arctic,  181  ; 
lesser,  143 

Texture  of  eggs,  138 

Theories  of  migration,  184 

Thread-worm,  303 

Thrush,    117,   129,   141,   146, 

295 

Ticks,  223 

Tic-polonga,  239 

Tiger,  191 

Titmouse,  122, 140, 181 ;  long- 
tailed,  125,  150 

Toad,  241 ;  fire-bellied,  244 ; 
midwife,  243 ;  spade-foot, 
244 ;  Surinam,  242 

Tortoise,  227  ;  giant,  230  ; 
gopher,  229  ;  pond,  230 

Tree-creeper,    140 ;     hopper, 

165 

Turtle,  227 ;  dove,  126 ; 
edible,  229 

V 
VARIABLE  hare,  221 

W 

WAPATI,  197 

Wasp,  18,  28,  29;  mud,  41; 
queen,  29  ;  sand,  36 ;  soli- 
tary, 36,  300  ;  sparring,  40  ; 
wood,  71 

Water  boatman,  197 

Water-hen,  151 

Water-snail,  304 


312 


Index 

Wax  plates,  19  Woodcock,  144,  146 

Weasel,  192  Woodlouse,  253 

Weaver-bird,  127,  129,  153  Woodpecker,   119,    140,   141, 

Weevil,  birch,  85  146 

Whale,  200  ;  killer,  200  Wood-wasp,  71 

White  ant,  55  Wrasse,  248 

White-headed  sea-eagle,  306  Wren,  140 

Wind  and  migration,  183  Wryneck,  122,  137,  140 

Wolf,  191  ,  Wydah  bird,  153 

Wolverine,  208 

Worker  ant,  45 

Worker  bee,  23  ZAITHA,  95 


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of  the  Air.      By  MAJ.  CHARLES  C.  TURNER,  R.A.F.     With  62  Illustrations. 
"  Maj.  Turner  is  well  known  as  an  authority  on  aeronautics.    Of  real  value."— 

A  berdeen  Journal. 

GEOLOGY    OF    TO-DAY.     A    Popular    Introduction  in   Simple 
Language.     By  J.   W.   GREGORY,  F.R.S.,  D.Sc.,   Professor  of  Geology  at  the 
University  of  Glasgow.     With  55  Illustrations.     Extra  Crown  8vo. 
"An  ideal  introduction  to  a  fascinating  science.    The  romance  and  reality  of  the 
earth  most  brilliantly  and  soundly  presented." — Globe. 

SUBMARINE    ENGINEERING    OF    TO-DAY.     By   C.   W. 

DoMViLLi-FiFE,  Author  of  "  Submarines  of  the  World's  Navies,"  &c: 

BOTANY  OF  TO-DAY.     A  Popular  Account  of  the  Evolution  of 

Modern  Botany.     By  Prof.  G.  F.  SCOTT-ELLIOT,  M.A.,  B.Sc.,  F.L.S. 
"This  most  entertaining  and  instructive  book.    It  is  the  fruit  of  wide  reading  ai  d 
much  patient  industry."— Globe. 

SCIENTIFIC    IDEAS    OF    TO-DAY.     A  Popular  Account,  in 

Non-technical   Language,   of  the   Nature   of  Matter,   Electricity,   Light,    Heat, 
Electrons,  &c.  &c.     By  C.  R.  GIBSON,  F.R.S.E.     Extra  Crown  8vo. 
"  As  a  knowledgeable  writer,  gifted  with  the  power  of  imparting  what  he  knows  in  a 
manner  intelligible  to  all,  Mr.  C.  R.  Gibson  has  established  a  well-deserved  reputation." 

-Field. 

ASTRONOMY    OF    TO-DAY.     A  Popular  Introduction  in  Non- 
technical Language.     By  CECIL  G.  DOLMAGE,  LL.D.,  F.R.A.S.     46  Illustrations. 

Extra  Crown  8vo. 
"A  lucid  exposition  much  helped  by  abundant  illustrations." — The  Times. 

ELECTRICITY    OF    TO-DAY.     Its  Work  and  Mysteries   Ex- 
plained.    By  CHARLES  R.  GIBSON,  F.R.S.E.     Extra  Crown  8vo. 
"  One  of  the  best  examples  of  popular  scientific  exposition  that  we  remember  seeing." 

—  The  Tribune. 

ENGINEERING    OF    TO-DAY.     A    Popular    Account    of  the 

Present  State  of  the  Science.      By  T.  W.  CORBIN.     39  Illustrations.     Ex.  Cr.  8vo. 
"  Most  attractive  and  instructive."— Record. 

MEDICAL    SCIENCE    OF    TO-DAY.     A   Popular  Account  of 

recent  Developments.     By  WILLMOTT-EVANS,   M.D.,  B.Sc.,  F.R.C.S. 
"  A  very  Qolconda  of  gems  of  knowledge."— Manchester  Guardian. 

MECHANICAL   INVENTIONS   OF   TO-DAY.     An  Interesting 

Description  of  Modern  Mechanical  Inventions.      By  THOMAS  W.  CORBIN. 
"In  knowledge  and  clearness  of  exposition  it  is  far  better  than  most  works  of  a 
similar  character  and  aim."— Academy. 

PHOTOGRAPHY    OF    TO-DAY.     A    Popular   Account   of  the 

Origin,  Progress,  and  Latest  Discoveries.     BY  H.  CHAPMAN  JONES,  F.I.C.,  F.C.S., 
Pres.  R.P.S.  ;  Lecturer  on  Photography  at  Imperial  College  of  Science. 
"An  admirable  statement  of  the  development  of  photography  from  its  very  beginning 
to  the  present  time."— Journal  of  Photography. 

SEELEY,   SERVICE    ^   CO.,  LIMITED 


THE    NEW    ART    LIBRARY 

"The  admirable  New  Art  Library." — Connoisseur. 
New   Volume.     Just  Ready 

WATER  COLOUR  PAINTING 

ALFRED  W.  RICH.     With  over  Sixty  Illustrations.     Price  ios.  6d.  nett. 

"  No  artist  living  is  better  qualified  to  undertake  a  text-book  on  water  colour  painting 
than  Mr  Rich.  Not  only  is  he  one  of  the  most  distinguished  exponents  of  the  art  in  this 
country,  but  he  has  had  considerable  experience  and  success  as  a  teacher.  This 

admirable  volume  .  .    "—Studio. 

"  A  book  on  the  art  of  water  colour  painting  by  one  of  its  best  living  practitioners. .  . . 
Mr  Rich's  technique,  clean,  direct,  and  scrupulous,  is  the  best  possible  foundation  for 
the  student.— Times. 

THE  PRACTICE  OF  OIL  PAINTING 

SOLOMON  J.  SOLOMON,  R.A.  With  Eighty  Illustrations.  Price  ios.  6d.  nett. 


painting  would  soon  show  a  great  increase  in  efficiency."— Manchester  Guardian. 

HUMAN  ANATOMY  FOR  ART  STUDENTS 

Sir  ALFRED  D.  FRIPP,  K.C.V.O.,  C.B.,  Lecturer  upon  Anatomy  at  Guy's 
and  RALPH  THOMPSON.     Drawings  by  INNES  FRIPP,  A.R.C.A.,  Master 
of  Life  Class,  City  Guilds  Art  School.     151  Illustrations.      155.  nett. 
"  The  character  of  this  book  all  through  is  clearness,  both  in  the  letterpress  and  the 

illustrations.    The  latter  are  admirable." — Spectator. 

"  Just  such  a  work  as  the  art  student  needs,  and  is  probably  all  that  he  will  need.     It 
is  very  fully  illustrated.    There  are  9  plates  showing  different  views  of  the  skeleton  and 
the  muscular  system,  23  reproductions  of  photographs  from  life,  and  over  130  figures  and 
drawings. " — Glasgow  Herald. 

MODELLING   &   SCULPTURE 

ALBERT  TOFT,  Hon.  Associate  of  the  Royal  College  of  Art,  Member  of 
the  Society  of  British  Sculptors.    With  118  Illustrations.     158.  nett. 
"  Mr  Toft's  reputation  as  a  sculptor  of  marked  power  and  versatility  guarantees 

that  the  instruction  he  gives  is  thoroughly  reliable."— Connoisseur. 
"  Will  be  exceeding  useful  and  indispensable  to  all  who  wish  to  learn  the  art  of 
sculpture  in  its  many  branches.    The  book  will  also  appeal  to  those  who  have  no  inten- 
tion of  learning  the  art,  but  wish  to  know  something  about  it.    Mr  Toft  writes  very 

clearly."— Field. 

THE  PRACTICE  6»  SCIENCE  OF  DRAWING 

HAROLD  SPEED,    Member  of  the   Royal   Society   of  Portrait    Painters. 

With  93  Illustrations,     ios.  6d.  nett. 
"This  book  is  of  such  importance  that  everyone  interested  in  the  subject  must  read 

it."— WALTER  SICKERT  in  The  Daily  News. 
"Altogether  this  is  one  of  the  best  volumes  in  the  admirable  series  to  which  it 

belongs."— Literary  World. 
11  There  are  many  new  and  original  ideas  in  the  book."—  The  Outlook. 

THE  ARTISTIC  ANATOMY  OF  TREES 

REX  VICAT  COLE.     With  500  Illustrations  £5?  Diagrams.      155.  nett. 

"  No  work  on  art  published  during  recent  years  is  better  calculated  to  be  of  practical 

assistance  to  the  student."— Connoisseur. 
"  Excellently  and  copiously  illustrated." — Times. 

"  Like  all  volumes  of  the  New  Art  Library,  thorough  in  its  teaching,  eminently 

practical  in  its  manner  of  presenting  it,  and  so  splendidly  illustrated  that  not  a  rule  is 

laid  down  or  a  piece  of  advice  given  but  what  a  drawing  accompanies  it.     Mr  Vicat 

Cole's  ability  as  a  landscape  painter  is  well  known,  and  he  unites  to  his  executive  talents 

the  qualifications  of  an  accomplished  teacher." — Connoisseur. 

SEELEY,  SERVICE  6-  CO.,  LIMITED 


POPULAR  SCIENCE  FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE 

BY  CHARLES  R.  GIBSON,  F.R.S.E. 

"Among  writers  for  boys  on  science,  easily  the  most  skilful  Is  Mr.  Charles  Gibson. 
lie  writes  so  clearly,  simply  and  charmingly  about  the  most  difficult  things  that  his  books  are 
quite  as  entertaining  as  any  ordinary  book  of  adventure.  Mr.  Gibson  has  a  first-rate  scientific 
mind  and  considerable  scientific  attainments.  He  is  never  guilty  of  an  inexact  phrase— 
certainly,  never  an  obscure  one—  or  a  misleading  analogy.  We  could  imagine  him  having  a 
vogue  among  our  young  folk  comparable  with  that  of  Jules  Verne."— The  Nation. 

"  Mr.  Gibson  has  fairly  made  his  mark  as  a  populariser  of  scientific  knowledge."— Guardian. 

IN  THE  SCIENCE  FOB  CHILDREN  SERIES. 

Illustrated.     4s.  Qd.  nett  each. 
OUE   GOOD    SLAVE   ELECTRICITY. 

"An  exquisitely  clear  book  for  childish  beginners."— The  Nation. 

"  Told  in  simple  and  remarkably  clear  language,  and  with  such  ingenuity  that  many  pages 

of  it  read  like  a  fairy  tale."— Glasgow  Herald. 

THE   GREAT   BALL    ON    WHICH    WE  LIVE. 

"A  most  fascinating  and  suggestive  story  of  the  earth.  Mr.  Gibson  not  only  knows  his 
subject  thoroughly,  but  has  the  capacity  of  conveying  the  knowledge  to  young  folk."i 

Church  Family  Newspaper. 

THE   STARS    fef   THEIR   MYSTERIES. 

WAR  INVENTIONS  fef  HOW  THEY  WERE  INVENTED. 

CHEMISTRY  &  ITS  MYSTERIES. 

IN  THE  LIBRARY  OP  ROMANCE.     Illustrated.     6*.  nett  each. 
THE   ROMANCE   OF   MODERN   ELECTRICITY. 

"  Admirable,  clear  and  concise." — Graphic.    "Very  entertaining  and  instructive." — Queen. 
"A  book  which  the  merest  tyro,  totally  unacquainted  with  elementary  principles,  can 

understand." — Electricity. 

THE   ROMANCE    OF    MODERN   PHOTOGRAPHY. 

"  There  is  not  a  dry  or  uninteresting  page  throughout." — Country  Life. 

"  The  narration  is  everywhere  remarkable  for  its  fluency  and  clear  style."— Bystander. 

THE  ROMANCE  OF  SCIENTIFIC  DISCOVERY. 

"The  most  curious  boy  of  mechanical  bent  would  find  such  a  book  satisfying." 

Westminster  Gazette. 

THE  ROMANCE  OF  MODERN  MANUFACTURE. 

"  A  popular  and  practical  account  of  all  kinds  of  manufacture." — Scotsman. 
"  Just  the  sort  of  book  to  put  into  the  hands  of  senior  boys  as  a  school  prize." 

Sheffield  Telegraph. 

HEROES  OF  THE  SCIENTIFIC  WORLD.    The  Lives,  Sacrifices, 

Successes,  and  Failures  of  some  of  the  greatest  Scientists. 
"The  whole  field  of  science  is  well  covered.  .  .  .  Every  one  of  the  300  odd  pages  contains 

some  interesting  piece  of  information."— Athenceum. 

WHAT  IS  ELECTRICITY  1     With  8  Illus.     Long  8vo.     5s.  nett. 

11  A  brilliant  study. "-Daily  Mail. 

"Quite  a  unique  book  in  its  way,  at  once  attractive  and  illuminating."— Record. 

THE  MARVELS  OF  PHOTOGRAPHY.  With  Illustrations.  5s.  nett. 

IN  THE  WONDER  LIBRARY.     Illustrated.     3s.  nett  each. 
THE   WONDERS   OF   MODERN   ELECTRICITY. 
THE  WONDERS   OF   MODERN   MANUFACTURE. 
THE   WONDERS   OF   AVAR   INVENTIONS. 
THE   WONDERS   OF   SCIENTIFIC   DISCOVERY. 
SEELEY,  SERVICE  &  CO   LIMITED 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


